


Not in the Stars

by nekojita



Series: Laughing Fox Coffee House [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Andrew with wings, Canon-Typical Violence, Cats, F/F, F/M, Foxes as Virtues, Furies, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kevin is finally here, M/M, Magic, Mythology References, Neil as Death, Neil has no filter, Sandman-based, Some of them at least, Well sometimes, still lots of inventive cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita
Summary: Andrew has adjusted to his new Aspect as one of the Erinyes and his life with Neil (for the most part - there could be less cats and Wrath in his opinion). He has his work as Vengeance and his responsibility to his twin, Aaron, newly involved in his, Bee's and Nicky's lives, to keep him busy, but things are good.Mostly good.There's still the matter of the owed debt to Destiny, of finding the ancient Named One an heir 'soon', and the fact that Deception and Destruction have been quiet for too long.Long-hidden secrets are finally revealed, machinations set into motion millennia ago come to a head, and Rules are tested if not outright broken.





	1. Death Lets Something Slip

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we go! The long (uhm, perhaps?) awaited sequel to The First Breath! I told you I'd get around to it eventually, so here you go! A little bit of a break from Raven's Partner (if you're reading that). Hmm, it was fun to write the boys back together again, I must admit.
> 
> Ah... I don't know what to say, really. I don't see too many warnings for this, at least now - Andrew and Neil are together, if you've read FB then you know what's happening (the vaguest of references to Andrew's past and there's a bit of violence but it IS an AFTG fic).
> 
> And much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> ******

*******

/Where did the winged one go?/

Death smiled at the calico cat as he shook out more of the dry kibble into one of the various dishes scattered around the loft. “To buy a present for his mother.”

The cat seemed to think about that before joining his companions in eating the food. /Why not just take her a mouse or a bird?/

“She much prefers some sort of hot beverage instead.”

/How odd./

Death shrugged a little to show that he didn’t entirely disagree, and resumed filling the various bowls so the cats would have something to eat. He’d just finished when he felt a brush of power nearby and stilled before he sighed and set the bag aside so he could step _between_ and meet his fellow Named One on the roof of the apartment building.

Somehow it didn’t surprise him that Destiny appeared during one of the rare times when Andrew was away and he was alone.

The ancient Named One stood near the edge of the roof, dressed much like always in a worn blue shirt and jeans, in non-descript clothes that along with his grey-shot black hair and weathered skin would allow him to blend in with mortals and probably be dismissed by most, if he ever bothered to walk amongst them. Destiny had the power to dictate their lives, to twist the threads that would allow them happiness or wealth or good health – or none of those things – and kept his distance from the gadflies he held so much power over.

Lives started and ended because of Death, and Destiny set them on the path they would ‘walk’ until their death. They were the strongest of the Named Ones, the one who held the most power and sway over all living things – _everything_ was under their domain in the end. Some may fall to Desire and Dream, to Destruction and Deception, to Delirium and Despair… but none escaped Death and Destiny.

And Death would be claiming Destiny soon, from what he could tell – or at least, _this_ Destiny ‘soon’. “Ah, good day?” Death spoke as he nodded to the quiet figure.

“Yes, I suppose.” There was a slight expression of amusement on the Named One’s face, his eyes the white gleam of cataracts as always as he ‘stared’ out over the neighborhood. “I see that you’re doing well, you and your lover.”

“Yes,” Death agreed. “It still takes a bit of getting used to, but we’re happy.”

“That’s good, because you’ll need him by your side in the near future,” Destiny told him.

“All right.” Death waited to see if there was an explanation for that remark and sighed. “Are you here for a specific reason other than to make cryptic proclamations?”

“How goes the search for my heir?”

“Ah, guilt _and_ cryptic proclamations, wonderful.” Death rubbed at his forehead and wondered _yet again_ what he’d done to the Fates. “I’ve been searching this entire time, but no suitable candidates have presented themselves.” He gave Destiny a hopeful look. “You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas, would you? I mean… perhaps you’ve _seen_ something?”

That prompted a bemused chuckle from the ancient being. “We’re checked by our Aspects when it comes to our own selves, young one. I can’t see who will replace me or how exactly my own thread will end, just like you can’t foresee your own death.”

“I don’t need to see my own ending, because I’ll be the last one here when this universe is finished and a new one starts,” Death informed Destiny. “I have no plans on passing on this Aspect.”

Destiny ‘gazed’ at him for about a minute before nodding. “Your thread… is quite a fascinating one.”

“Thank you?” Death wasn’t quite sure what to say about that… but then again, Destiny often left him feeling that way. “So no help at all?”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. But best to do it sooner rather than later.” Destiny gave him a polite nod before slipping _between_.

Well, that had certainly been rather frustrating, hadn’t it? Death sighed as he returned back to the loft, where King and Sir were waiting for him in the bedroom area. /The old scary one was here?/ King asked as Death stretched out on the bed he shared with Andrew.

“Yes.”

/Ah./ Sir jumped up on the bed and curled up next to him, while King lay down on Andrew’s sweater. /Did he bring treats?/

“No, it wasn’t that type of visit.” Despite himself, Death smiled a little as he rubbed the black cat’s ears. “And, uhm, could you not mention it to Andrew? At least today?” His lover had plans with his family that evening, and finding out about Destiny would put him in a troublesome mood and perhaps even make him cancel those plans – which would upset Betsy Dobson in return. Death didn’t want to be the reason for any difficulties between Andrew and his mother, not when Betsy Dobson was doing Andrew a favor in regards to his twin. “Besides, Wrath is visiting, and _he_ should have treats.”

Excited about the prospect of food, both cats agreed to keep Destiny’s visit a secret (at least for a short while); Death knew he’d have to tell Andrew soon enough, but it could wait a little longer. It wasn’t like they didn’t know they had to honor their deal with Destiny, right? So really, nothing for Andrew to be upset about at all.

*******

It still amazed Andrew that he not only had his own apartment to call ‘home’, a large loft with a freezer stocked full of multiple pints of ice cream and a cabinet with myriad bottles of liquor and the entire place warded to keep out almost everyone, but that he shared the place with _Neil_. That when he returned to a space that wasn’t just a building where he was staying for a certain amount of time but where he also felt safe and content and had made it his own, and there was a gorgeous idiot waiting for him with a bright smile.

A gorgeous idiot waiting for him with a bright smile while stretched out on their bed with two cats, with more cats curled up all through their home.

All right, Andrew could accept that it was his life, all things considered. Especially when he caught sight of King lying on his favorite black sweater, her grey hair now all over it. Yet before he could bitch at the cat, Neil rose up in an obvious invitation for a kiss. “That didn’t take long.”

Andrew settled for glaring at the cat, which of course ignored him, as he set aside the bag of hot chocolate mix which he’d ‘run’ out for in anticipation of the ‘family’ dinner that evening before he leaned in to oblige his idiot. “No, Renee was right in that the one store had it.” Granted, the store had been in Toronto, but that was a minor thing when all it had taken was a thought and he’d been there a moment later.

“Hmm.” Neil’s hands hovered around Andrew’s shoulders for a few seconds before Andrew grasped them gently by the wrist and draped them around his neck to show it was all right to hold onto him, then ran his own hands along the front of the idiot’s chest while he deepened the kiss. They didn’t have much time… _he_ didn’t have much time, but soon enough they both were lying down on the bed while King and Sir let out displeased meows and jumped off, Andrew’s hands beneath Neil’s t-shirt and Neil’s hands in his hair.

It was when Andrew took to skimming his lips along the top of the black collar around Neil’s neck and his left hand began to slip beneath the waistband of Neil’s dark grey jeans that he reminded himself of why continuing things past that point would be ‘bad’, even though he had a feeling that in another half an hour he’d greatly regret stopping now and getting up from the bed. With a slight sigh of regret, he pulled away from his lover, which provoked a displeased noise from Neil which sounded a bit reminiscent of what the cats had made a couple of minutes before (Neil needed to hang out with Renee or Dan some more, dammit, and less at home with all the furballs).

“Come on,” Andrew told him as he dragged his idiot upright. “When is the asshole going to be here?” Once Neil was sitting with a scowl on his face, he let him go to grab the bag of hot chocolate mix.

“Uhm.” Now Neil appeared thoughtful as he considered something then sighed while combing his fingers through the tousled mess of his hair. “Very soon.”

“Great.” Andrew headed to the kitchen, mindful of the kittens from the litter temporarily taking up residence near the coffee able, so he could have a glass of whiskey before having to deal with both Wrath _and_ the dinner. “Sure you can’t hang out with Renee or Matt for the night instead?”

“ _Renee_ has plans with Allison,” Neil told him as he followed along, still somewhat bemused by Andrew’s insistence on calling their fellow Named Ones by their ‘mortal’ monikers but playing along as always, “and Matt has been going on about some new game coming out.” He shuddered a little as he mentioned his friend. “Supposedly he has high hopes of being able to beat Tem- ah, Jean on it, so I fear if I go spend time with him, he’ll force me to play it so he can practice.”

Hmm, it sounded as if Jean was off on another ‘not-date’ with Jeremy that evening. Andrew didn’t understand why it was taking someone who otherwise appeared intelligent so long to pick up on the fucking clue that a reasonably attractive (if one liked annoying and almost always cheerful morons) guy adored them. Then again, it was becoming clear that Riko had fucked up Jean in various ways over the years (centuries) that he’d kept the Virtue magically chained in servitude to the prick, a thought that made Andrew slosh a good bit of whiskey into the glass tumbler then toss it back with haste.

Riko was _never_ getting anywhere near Neil again, so Andrew would just have to suffer through Wrath being in his home that evening while he was over at Bee’s, since she had declared the weekly ‘family’ dinners a time for Andrew, Aaron and Nicky to get to know each other better without any ‘respective others’ (meaning Neil and Erik) to be there as a distraction (to be insulted by Aaron, for Neil to say his weird, unfiltered shit or for Erik to take offense at Aaron’s insults on Nicky’s and Neil’s behalf).

Neil came over to stand beside Andrew until their shoulders brushed together with a purring Sir held in his arms, and some of the anger settled in Andrew at the contact. He felt the urge to unfurl his wings and wrap them around his lover, to slip _between_ to some high rooftop where the two of them could look out over a city, somewhere peaceful and safe and blocked off from the world, but he had his obligations tonight. He’d promised Bee to help her with Aaron, had answered his brother’s call and taken that step to save him, so he could only miss a dinner if another call pulled at him or if there was something equally important.

Unfortunately for him, trading insults with Neil’s uncle for a couple of hours or making out with his lover didn’t qualify as that ‘important’.

He debated another glass of whiskey when there was a familiar rush of power followed by a quick knock on the front door, and sighed again when Neil smiled as he went to allow their guest into the loft.

/The angry one is visiting?/ Sir asked as she twisted her head back to look at Neil.

“Yes, for a little bit.”

/Hmm, he brought good treats last time./

Neil set her down before he opened the door to admit Wrath, who was dressed in light grey slacks and a white button-down shirt without a vest, tie or jacket – in other words, rather informal for once. He held the strings to a gift bag in his left hand, and judging from the way that King came trotting forward and Sir’s black ears perked up, he continued to bribe the damn cats. “Looking good, kiddo,” he said as he reached out to tousle Neil’s unruly auburn curls.

“Thank you.” Neil suffered the affectionate gesture with a genuine smile before he stepped out of the way. “You look good, too.”

“Been busy as fuck, but I can’t complain.” Wrath’s grey eyes narrowed a little when he caught sight of Andrew, then he shrugged as if unbothered. “Brought some of those butter biscuits you really like, figured we’d have them and some tea.”

“Well, this party is getting too out of control for me, time to leave,” Andrew drawled while Wrath huffed and made a rude gesture in his direction; he doubted that he and the Vice would ever be good friends, but they were unified in their determination to keep a certain idiot safe and that was enough common ground for them.

“I think you need to get the place sprayed for fleas, kiddo. Seems to be an annoying one buzzing around here,” Wrath commented as he set the bag down on the kitchen island.

“Not funny,” Neil sighed, his expression the familiar put-upon one he wore when Andrew and Wrath were within the same vicinity, but before he could chide his uncle for the pathetic joke, Andrew grasped his lover by the chin and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

“Try not to do anything too stupid with the old prick there and save me some cookies,” Andrew told him right before he slipped _between_ , and left with the sight of Neil’s smile in his mind and Wrath’s gruff voice calling out ‘little shit’ before he appeared in Bee’s kitchen.

There was the smell of garlic and meatloaf in the air, and Bee paused in checking a boiling pot to stare at him for a couple of seconds. “I still can’t get over that,” she said with a smile as she pulled down her fogged glasses.

She accepted the fact that Andrew and Aaron were demi-gods, that Nicky was a powerful witch, that Andrew had taken on the Aspect of a Fury and meted out justice and vengeance, that there were times when he bore wings and fangs and claws… and it was the teleportation which left her amazed. He shook his head as he held up the bag of hot chocolate. “I got you more of that mix you liked.”

Her smile strengthened as she wiped her hands on her hips then reached for it. “Thank you.” She set the bag aside on the counter then looked him up and down as if to take in the finely knit black sweater, the black jeans and ankle boots. “Hmm, being a mythological creature appears to agree with you.”

“Amusing,” he told her while he filched a slice of bread from the basket set out on the counter and began to break it apart to eat it; she looked ‘good’ herself, looked much the same since he’d last seen her and not too tired or stressed. “Where’s Aaron?”

“He went to get changed after helping me prepare dinner.” She checked the pot one more time before turning off the oven. “How’s Neil?”

“The same as always. Nicky made the mistake of showing him Wikipedia a few days ago so now I have to make sure to limit his time on the internet or he’ll spend hours correcting ‘the many, _many_ erroneous events foolish humans keep asserting took place in history.’ Which is usually followed by the question, ‘Andrew, do mortals know what the word ‘history’ means?’.” He rolled his eyes while glancing around for the bottle of wine Bee had to have out on the counter somewhere, and started for it once he caught sight of it.

Bee did her best to bite back on a laugh and didn’t say anything when he uncorked the bottle, having given up by then on lecturing Andrew about ‘underage drinking’; he wasn’t ‘human’ and a few glasses of wine wouldn’t affect him, that and he no longer drove. Hell, ever since he took on the aspect of Tisiphone and ‘Andrew Joseph Dobson’ had for all intents and purposes disappeared from the world, the Fates had twisted things so that Nicky had ended up with Andrew’s car. He’d be a bit bitter about that, but he could go anywhere he wanted with a mere thought and had ‘inherited’ enough money with the Aspect to buy a few dozen fancy sports cars if he was so inclined.

“Yes, that does sound like him. You’ll have to bring him over soon, I do enjoy listening to his stories.” Bee smiled as she reached into the oven to pull out the meatloaf, while Andrew poured her a glass of wine as well.

She’d just reached for the glass when Aaron entered the kitchen, dressed all in black much like Andrew – however, that was where their similarities ended. Unlike Andrew, Aaron didn’t have a fancy black credit card and a nice huge bank account, so his style relied more on Nicky’s and Bee’s charity (well, and a bit of Andrew’s, considering that he’d given Bee some money back in November and December and told her to pass it off as presents from her for the ungrateful bastard) than anything else. There was also the fact that Andrew had never looked like such a sullen asshole ever in his life. “Oh, you’re here already,” Aaron said with a faint sniff as he folded his arms over his chest. “Wonderful.”

The smile faded a little from Bee’s lips as she glanced over at her latest ‘project’. “We were just talking about Neil.”

Aaron’s lips twisted a little upon hearing the name of Andrew’s lover. “What, we’re starting it already? Nicky’s not even here yet and I have to put up with how great and perfect things are with everyone but me?” He scowled at Andrew, who merely stood there drinking his wine, well used to the current rant. “Having fun playing house with the scary freak-“

“Aaron,” Bee warned as she set her own wine aside and gave Andrew’s twin a narrowed look.

“-and you go around messing up other people’s lives, huh? Kill anyone else’s mom today?” Aaron taunted him.

“Aaron! That was uncalled for,” Bee said, but before she could go on about displacement or some other bullshit, Andrew shook his head.

“Not today,” he informed his brother. “But I did kill one a couple of days ago, some drunken bitch who’ll never harm her daughter again.” Andrew ‘smiled’ at Aaron, an expression that had too much sharp teeth in it, and didn’t stop even when Aaron flinched from the sight and Bee drained her wineglass. “Funny how the girl was so grateful for what I did, how all of them are grateful, except for my own flesh and blood.”

“But… she… I don’t….” Aaron sputtered into silence and shook his head, his expression no longer one of utmost petulance and spite but of confusion instead. He wrapped his arms around himself until Bee gave a light touch to his left shoulder.

“Go check the table, will you?” she asked, and after a slight start he nodded then hurried into the dining room. Bee watched him go before looking over at Andrew. “He’s… well, he’s trying a little,” she offered. “At least he’s talking about it now. It’s small steps but it’s something.”

It was Aaron blaming Andrew for doing something Aaron had been unable to do, for Aaron being unwilling to let go of the past when he finally had a future in front of him. Not for the first time, Andrew regretted being unable to let go of things himself, since he was now stuck with Nicky _and_ Aaron, with a pest of a cousin and an ungrateful shit of a brother. All that and he still had dinner to get through with both of them.

He’d just finished his glass of wine when Nicky arrived, dropped off by Erik. “The fun can now start!” Nicky declared as he burst into the kitchen with a bottle of wine held in each hand (hence Erik being his designated driver).

“So I can hear,” Bee remarked with a wry tone, but she smiled when Nicky came over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “You look good, Nicholas.”

“I know!” Nicky beamed for a moment before he set the bottles down on the counter. “I never thought I’d mostly give up the club scene at such a young age, but there’s no point going to them all the time now when I’ve found the man of my dreams!”

“I’m sure your liver and brain cells appreciate it.” Bee gave him a nudge in the side while she spoke. “And that you’re busy studying those nights when you’re not here.”

“Uhmm….” A blush began to spread across Nicky’s face over his foster mother’s teasing, and then he gave Andrew a nervous smile. “So how is Neil?”

“If you ever show him something on the internet again, I’m going to remove your gallbladder,” Andrew promised while he allowed a hint of his Aspect free.

“Andrew,” Bee warned as she checked the pot again and turned off the heat beneath it.

“What? He can live without it,” Andrew told her while he poured himself some more wine.

“No maiming family members,” Bee reminded him as she peered at him over her glasses. “Now help me with the mashed potatoes.”

Someone wasn’t any fun, but Andrew kept that thought to himself, especially since Aaron returned to the kitchen so he could fill all of their glasses with water before dinner. Nicky gave him a smile and asked about his day, which Aaron was a bit surly about while answering at first, but slowly relaxed and talked about his classes (neither of them had worked at the Laughing Fox for once).

Once the mashed potatoes were ready, Bee had everyone grab something to take out to the dining room so they could sit down and eat.

Bee allowed Aaron a little wine to drink with his dinner, and the first couple of minutes was everyone helping themselves to food and enjoying a few bites to eat. "So, I hear Renee and Allison finally closed on a townhouse,” Nicky said as he cut up a piece of meatloaf. "There's talk of a party."

"Took them long enough."

Nicky rolled his eyes at Andrew. "Well, some people are a little more exacting than you and Neil, it seems."

"And some people are so picky that even Renee was getting annoyed," Andrew pointed out. He knew that Renee wasn't a Fury anymore but the Grace of Good Cheer, but even before changing aspects, there had been a sense of patience to Renee (Natalie) - and that patience had been tested by her lover's insistence on finding the 'perfect' house for them. And by 'perfect', that meant nothing under three million dollars and four thousand square feet.

"Yeah, well, it should be a great place for parties, no?" Nicky argued. "Better than hanging out at Matt and Dan's place, at least."

"What do a bunch of weirdos like you guys get up to?" Aaron asked as he pushed around his mashed potatoes. "Sacrifices all night?"

"No," Andrew said even as he thought about Neil and his complaints about the Fates punishing him. "We bitch about our asshole family members, listen to Matt complain about how Jean cheats at video games and how Neil won't accept cars as an improved mode of transportation over horses."

Aaron flinched at the 'asshole' comment while Bee sighed then glared at Andrew.

"No discussion of the people you killed during the day?" Aaron apparently wasn't going to let some things go, was he?

"Oh hell," Nicky muttered as he gulped down his wine.

"I'm not always busy with people calling out to me to save them from their abusive parents or the other bastards in their lives," Andrew remarked as he picked up another slice of bread and tore off a small piece. "Too many end up dead before they can, as Neil could tell you."

That provoked another flinch from Aaron, who finally looked down at his plate of food. "How are your studies going, Nicky?" Bee asked, seizing on a chance to change the topic.

"Ah! I'm doing great, at school and with Abby!" Nicky babbled about his last semester at university, of wrapping up his degree (even though it looked like he'd be focusing on the nature he'd inherited from his mother rather than his marketing degree once he graduated) and a couple of new spells he'd learned from Abby.

Bee nodded in approval before she looked over at Aaron. "And how are things with you? Did you find a study partner yet?"

Aaron shifted in his seat as he nodded. "Yeah, there's someone with a similar work schedule as mine so it's fine. We met up during lunch today and we'll spend some time on Sunday, too."

"That's great." Bee's face lit up with approval and happiness, much like it always did when she felt that Andrew was taking steps to be 'social' and interact with people, to 'move forward' a little. "If you need to borrow the car at all on Sunday, let me know."

"Okay." As always, Aaron ducked his head at Bee's 'generosity’, while Andrew shared a look with her; a car would be the next 'gift' for his brother, something that wouldn't be a problem at all to afford due to the money he'd 'inherited' but that Bee didn't want to rush because she thought that Aaron needed to be better 'grounded' for the time being.

Andrew could put up with the attitude he received from his twin, with the blame for Tilda, as long as Aaron appeared to appreciate the new home he'd found with Bee and gave her the proper respect. After all, if there was one thing that Andrew was learning after becoming a Fury, it was that people liked to blame others as much as possible, and why not him when he was indeed a 'monster'?

"So you said that things have been quiet?"

He finished his bite of mashed potatoes and shrugged in regards to Bee's question directed at him. "Mostly. Neil's unfortunate discovery about the internet aside," he paused to give a suddenly nervous Nicky a displeased look, "not much has been going on." There was still the debt that they owed to Destiny, but after literally traveling the world several times over searching for the Named One's 'heir', Neil had retreated back to their home and seemed to be 'thinking' up a new strategy.

Which seemed to be huddling with the cats while waiting for inspiration to strike.

"I just thought he might find it interesting," Nicky mumbled while he poured himself some more wine.

"See, you tried to _think_ ," Andrew sniffed. "Don't do it again."

"Be nice," Bee reminded them while Nicky whined about how Andrew was always so mean to him.

"Why not let the freak do whatever he wants? You do, after all,” Aaron said as he buttered a slice of bread. “It’s only fair, right?”

“Neil’s not a freak,” Nicky told him before Bee could, while Andrew stared at his brother. “He’s just… uhm… _unique_.”

“He _kills_ people and he talks weird and he’s creepy. No wonder he likes Andrew.”

“I’m sensing a bit more hostility than usual, Aaron,” Bee said as she set down her fork and knife. “Is something wrong?”

Aaron all but dropped the slice of bread and jabbed the butter knife in Andrew’s direction while Andrew sipped his wine. “Yeah, ‘something’s wrong’! Why does he get to come over here all the time dressed up and talking about his freak of a boyfriend when they both _kill_ people? Why do you act like he’s normal?”

“Actually, _I’m_ the only one who kills people,” Andrew clarified. “Neil’s the personification of Death, not Murder.”

“Is there an Aspect for Murder?” Nicky asked with a frown. “Homicide? Something like that?”

“Wrath might be the closest thing,” Bee argued, which confused Andrew for a moment because she’d never met the asshole. At his curious look, she grinned and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve been doing a little research and talking to Abby and David, all things considered.”

Meanwhile, Aaron was growing more flustered by the moment. “All of you are crazy!”

“I don’t like that word,” Bee rebuked him with a sharp tone.

“Whatever! Listen to yourselves! You’re talking about… about-“

“About Named Ones and gods, which you’re related to,” Andrew reminded his brother. “We’ve got Apollo for a grandfather or great-grandfather, something like that, which makes _you_ a demi-god,” even if the blood wasn’t as strong in Aaron as it had been in Andrew, “Nicky and Aunt Maria are witches,” Nicky waved at that and made the wine in his glass swirl about, “and I’m a Fury. All of us were fucked from the start.”

Aaron lowered the knife and picked up his wine glass instead. “Just great. I feel _so much_ better now.”

“Hey! I don’t know about you, but my life got _better_ when I found out what my parents were hiding from me!” Nicky scowled at Aaron while he did something that made the red wine turn white and then red again; Andrew (and Bee, he suspected) allowed the ‘parlor tricks’ because it was the type of magic that didn’t require a price from anyone but Nicky (if at all) and something his cousin knew better than to do in front of strangers. “Not all of us want to be normal, no offense, Betsy.”

“None taken, especially since there’s more of us ‘normals’ than you non-normals.” She gave him a slight smile before she picked up her fork. “Aaron… you’ve been through a lot these past few months, and no one’s forcing you to learn magic or to… to pick an ‘aspect’. But you have to respect the fact that magic and being a Fury are integral parts of your brother and your cousin. Hiding from the truth never benefits anyone, I’m afraid. And it’s best that you’re aware of some things for your own protection.”

“Why? I’m not some big scary Fury or _Death_ ,” Aaron sneered.

“Exactly,” Andrew said while Bee rubbed at her left temple as if she had a headache. “You’re a very little fish swimming in a very large sea, with no clue what’s going around you.” Now that he was ‘Tisiphone’, he had an idea of how Abby’s wards and Wymack’s sanctuary and Natalie’s careful watch had kept him, a young yet powerful demi-god, safe over the years. Aaron had probably survived for as long as he had because of Apollo’s blood being weaker in him, that and the remnant of Maria’s witch nature shielding him (and Nicky).

Now Aaron was protected by the wards Andrew and Nicky had cast on him, Bee’s house and the Laughing Fox, by Andrew’s reputation as a Fury, by the fact that Andrew was Neil’s lover (was _Death’s_ lover). It was the same thing keeping Bee safe as well, considering that Riko (Deception) was still out there and at some point, Apollo might have an interest in his demi-god offspring to fulfill some suicidal ‘request’.

“I’m fine with not having a clue,” Aaron grumbled. “I just want to get a degree and lead a normal life, without winged, homicidal assholes in it or witches or people who appear out of thin air.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Nicky told him, and sounded like he meant it. “Besides, Named Ones are useful when it comes to running errands.” He gave Andrew a hopeful look. “Speaking of which, could you-“

“No.”

Nicky pouted as he poured himself and Bee some more wine. “Fine, I’ll ask Jeremy. _He’s nice_.”

“ _He’s_ probably hoping you’ll help him when it comes time to settle his debt with Thessaly,” Andrew reminded the moron.

Nicky shivered at that and nearly spilled the wine. “Oh, yeah, _her_.” At Bee’s curious look, Nicky shook his head. “Really, _really_ old and powerful witch. Not even Abby wants much to do with her, not that Thessaly bothers with us ‘children’ much. Jeremy hit her up for a favor to help out Jean.”

Bee hummed a little as she had another bite of meatloaf. “I think I want to do a study on your kind once I retire.” At Nicky’s panicked expression, she rolled her eyes. “It’ll never be published, but it’ll be fascinating, I think, and keep me busy.”

Andrew thought about it and shrugged, because it should indeed keep her busy. Hell, just her trying to do a paper on Neil alone should keep her occupied for a couple of decades. Hmm… it had some possibilities….

“I think I know where you can start,” he told her.

“Oh really?” There was bright amusement in Bee’s brown eyes as she helped herself to more salad. “It wouldn’t happen to be with a certain redhead who has a fascination with cats and no internal filter?”

“Possibly.”

“And how _are_ you and Neil doing? Other than the Wikipedia thing?”

Andrew shrugged again as he scooped more mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I may need to limit the amount of cats who’re taking up space in the loft – there’s a litter of kittens, by the way,” he told Nicky, which made his cousin squeal in excitement and pull out his phone to apparently send off a quick text to Erik despite Bee’s ‘no texting at dinner’ rule, “he’s still complaining about all of the auto-tuning in today’s music, I think there’s something odd about his hearing but I’ve put up with enough classical shit for the next decade, and other than that, it’s… good,” he admitted, since it was clear she’d keep asking until he satisfied her curiosity/concern.

“Yay, you and the freak have a happy little home together,” Aaron muttered as he stabbed at the remaining bit of meatloaf on his plate. “Such a happy couple. What do you do besides drink coffee and hang out together while killing people?”

“Aaron,” Bee murmured as she gave him a worried glance.

“We have a decent sex life,” Andrew told the pain in the ass because he knew Aaron was trying to get under his skin and decided to return the favor; it made Aaron nearly choke on the bite of food he’d just taken and Nicky toss back the last swallow of wine in his glass while Bee perked up.

“Really? That’s very encouraging to hear. I just want to reassure you that a ‘sex life’ is however you define it, Andrew, be it oral or penetrative or whatever you feel most comfortable doing, you and Neil. Don’t let society’s expectations pressure you into anything that isn’t right for you, understand?” She glanced around as if looking for something. “I don’t think I brought home the one briefcase that has-“

Andrew cleared his throat while Aaron made a swipe for the bottle of wine that Nicky was using to refill his own glass. “I think I know enough about sex,” he told his adopted mother. “Neil and I, we’re good on all of it.” He _so_ didn’t need the sex talk from Bee at this point in his life.

“I’m not, I’m most certainly _not_ ,” Aaron muttered as Nicky smacked his hand from the bottle.

“Now Aaron, you need to be more accepting of the myriad sexualities out there,” Bee chided while she adjusted her glasses. “Despite what modern society would have you think, humans are more fluid than ‘heterosexuality’ and ‘male’ and ‘female’. Those are just limiting constructs.”

“Give ‘em hell,” Nicky cheered her on before he gulped down some wine, while Andrew wondered why he couldn’t be spared by receiving a ‘call’, even if he’d started the whole mess.

Needless to say, by the time dinner was finished and so was Bee with her little ‘sexuality is a very fluid construct’ talk, Andrew wasn’t Aaron’s favorite person anymore (not that he’d ever been, but still). He was being glared at with such distaste that he figured it was probably best for him to skip dessert (a store bought pie, so no real hardship) and go check up on his idiot.

“You’re not staying?” Bee asked with a bit of disappointment.

“I left Neil with Wrath, so probably best to make sure the prick hasn’t grabbed him and is off in Italy or something." While Andrew talked, he glanced at Aaron, who was attempting to smack Nicky even as their cousin tried to help him clear off the table. Then again, it might have something to do with Nicky teasing him by making the napkins act like dancing puppets.

Bee noticed where his attention had wandered and sighed while a tender smile hovered on her lips. “At least he’s venting now, which is a step forward. It’s better for him to lash out a little than to hold it all in.”

“As long as he’s not lashing out at you.” Andrew could take the abuse since he was used to being thought of as the monster and the freak, but he refused to allow even his own twin to mistreat Bee when she had opened her home to Aaron and was doing whatever she could to make him better.

“He’s not.” Bee’s expression softened as she slowly reached out to give Andrew a hug and a kiss on the forehead. “The occasional jab aside, he’s even mindful of Nicky. I think he directs the worst of it to you because he knows you’ll take it. Tell Neil I said ‘hi’, okay?”

Andrew nodded before he stepped _between_ , before he left the first house to be a home for him, and returned to his lover.

*******

Death’s smile faded as Andrew slipped _between_ , despite the fact that he was in the home he shared with his lover and had his uncle standing not too far away. “Uhm, so some tea now?” he asked Wrath, mindful of the butter biscuits.

“That would be nice.” Wrath finished off the last of the whisky in his glass before he set it aside and nodded.

/There are treats?/ King asked as she stood up on her back legs, her blue eyes intent on the bag holding the biscuits and what must be some snacks for her and Sir as well.

“Yeah, yeah, let me get them out for you,” Wrath grumbled while Death went over to the electric kettle (there were some advantages to the modern world) to pour hot water into the tea pot to warm it up before he measured in the tea leaves of the one Irish Breakfast blend he liked best. While it steeped, Wrath gave the cats their treats, which made them purr in delight (and drew some of the ‘guests’ to the kitchen as well), and smiled at Death when he brought over the pot along with two mugs a minute or two later.

“You’re really looking good, kiddo.” His grey eyes narrowed a little as they sat down at the high bar in the kitchen area, Wrath busy opening up the box of biscuits. “Could still afford to put on a little more weight, but not too bad. Staying in one place at last agrees with you.”

“I like it here.” Death thought about that statement and frowned. “Well, it is a bit crowded with all of the mortals, I can't believe how much their population has increased in the last century or so, and it’s ridiculous how they all insist on driving those awful vehicles around when they’re so noisy and polluting, not to mention horses are so much better. It’s never really quiet anymore, do you notice that?” Wrath nodded in agreement. “But still, I enjoy living with Andrew.”  He did, too; he supposed that now he understood why Courage put up with all of Compassion’s foolish antics and why Desire was so powerful.

"Andrew." Wrath's expression turned a little sour as he checked the tea. "You finally fall for someone and it had to be him, eh?" When Death frowned at his uncle, the Vice shook his head. "No, I'm not going to argue with you again, he seems to be doing a decent job of watching out for you... it's just... you had so many options." He even sounded a bit sour.

"I like Andrew," Death repeated. And he wasn't so sure about those 'options'.

"You are your mother's son," Wrath remarked as he poured the tea into the mugs; Death wasn't certain that was a compliment, considering his father, but there was a hint of a smile on Wrath's lips. "Stubborn as fuck."

"I believe it's a family trait."

Wrath grunted at that, and his smile solidified when King jumped up into Death's lap and sniffed at the biscuits which Wrath had put down in front of Death on a napkin. Death gave a small piece to his assistant, which King seemed to enjoy before curling up and purring.

"You still warding the other apartment?" Wrath asked after they ate a couple of the buttery biscuits and had a few sips of tea. "The one where Temperance is staying?"

"Hmm? Yes." Death motioned to King and to the upper level, where Sir was sleeping. "They help watch over Temperance and we visit often as well since he lives with Courage and Compassion. The magic which Thessaly provided is still working, too."

Wrath muttered an ancient Celtic curse beneath his breath. "Not surprised, considering that she's a wily one. Probably jumped at the chance to both screw over a Named One and have a Virtue in her debt."

"Hmm." Death found everyone's reactions to the witch a bit odd, since he'd never had a problem with her and found her very respectful... but then again, Thessaly was known to be very intelligent and had lived for so long by not unduly antagonizing the wrong Named Ones (as well as being very powerful). "Why do you want to know?"

It was quiet for a few seconds while Wrath poured them both some more tea. "Because a few people have spotted Deception here or there, never in one place for long, and a source I trust claims he was in the company of that golem of your father's."

"Ah." Death shivered a little as he thought of Patrick, of the large hands so rough and powerful and cold, of the malice in those dark eyes, a malice which was an extension of his father because the golem was his father's creation (which was such an anomaly, _Destruction_ being involved in the creation of something, but Lola would do whatever her master wanted in the end).

"Hey." Wrath reached out to cup the side of Death's face, his hand calloused and warm yet gentle, which shook Death from his thoughts and dragged forth a slight smile. "That hunk of dirt isn't going to get anywhere near you, okay? I won't let it, and I think the runt might have something to say about it, too, considering all the wards around you." He gave a pointed look to the collar around Death's neck. "You'll be all right."

Somehow, Death doubted it would be that simple, not when his father and Deception had been after him for so very long... but he had faith in his uncle and his lover. At the least, they would be there to put him back together again, to pull him back when he went 'too far'. "Okay."

"Drink your tea," Wrath chided him, and while Death did just that, told him stories about his work and travels (Death was beginning to suspect that his uncle might be dating Hestia, considering how much he talked about the goddess of the hearth).

When the tea was finished, Wrath filled their mugs with whisky, which wasn't Death's favorite beverage but which he could tolerate when his uncle was in such a good mood. They talked a little about old gods long gone and forgotten by mortals, and about meeting up for dinner one night (when Death warned Andrew about it in advance).

They were discussing the mortals' propensity to fight wars over the most ridiculous things (an oak bucket, farm animals, religion...) when Andrew finally returned. Death smiled and showed him the remaining biscuits in the box. "Did you have a nice night?"

By way of answer, Andrew picked up the bottle of whisky and drank straight from it. "Ah, I see," Death remarked as he set a sleepy King down on the floor and stood up.

"You can go home now," Andrew told Wrath once he stopped drinking. "Or wherever, just go."

"Always a pleasure to see you, too," Wrath told him, the sour note back in his deep voice. "Except not really. Take care of yourself, kiddo, and maybe have the little shit choke on those damn biscuits for me." He gave Death a quick hug before slipping _between_ while Andrew made a rude gesture in his direction.

"Next time have Renee or Dan come over," Andrew said while reaching for a biscuit. "Or even Matt."

"He's my uncle, he means well," Death argued as he leaned against the counter. "Was Aaron in a bad mood?"

"That's one way of looking at it." Andrew bit into the biscuit and hummed in pleasure. "Everything's still my fault, we're freaks and his life was perfect before I showed up to ruin things."

"I... no, I don't see." Death tugged on the hem of his shirt as he thought about that. "I don't understand how you could accept everything so readily while your own twin is engulfed in complete denial." Being of Apollo's bloodline, they should be complimentary to each other, not complete opposites.

Andrew's expression... didn't exactly soften, but it smoothed out a little as he abandoned the treats to come over to stand in front of Death. "Who knows? Guess that's what makes me so special."

Death smiled as he slowly reached out to rest his right hand over his lover's heart. "It's what makes you a scoundrel, I believe."

"I can think of other reasons for that," Andrew said before leaning in for a kiss the same time that his wings appeared.

A thrill of excitement ran through Death as those wings enfolded him, as they seemed to block off the world around him the same time that Andrew’s hands slipped beneath his shirt and he parted his lips so Andrew’s tongue could slide into his mouth, a quick flick of warmth and whisky. Death trembled in anticipation and excitement, in want and need, as his fingers threaded through Andrew’s short, thick hair and his lover’s body pressed against his own.

They spent a couple of minutes kissing in the kitchen, of savoring the feel of each other, being able to touch and share each other’s breath, the small things such as how a light scratch of Death’s nails along Andrew’s scalp provoked a barely uttered moan and a nibble at the hinge of Death’s jaw made him gasp aloud. All the things they’d uncovered slowly with each other, which they could now indulge in without fear or hesitation.

Which always drove them on to want _more_ , and Death found himself tugged _between_ and sprawled out on their bed in the upper floor with Andrew leaning over him, beautiful wings spread out as if a bronze canopy above them. A song of want and desire filled the room as Andrew willed his black sweater away, the metallic feathers shimmering together as those large wings flexed and spread, and Death smiled as he reached out to stroke along a scapular feather.

There was a slight twitch to Andrew’s full lips at the caress; he didn’t allow anyone but Death to touch his wings, even though Nicky and Aglaia tried upon occasions. “Find something of interest, did we?”

“A little,” Death admitted. “They’re yours, so of course I like them.” His smile strengthened when Andrew tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, which he willed away as well, and laughed as his pants were pulled down his hips. “I like your wings. I like your mouth, too.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Done removing Death’s clothes, Andrew stroked his warm hands along Death’s legs, which parted to allow him to settle between them, until they rested on Death’s hips. Andrew’s thumbs rubbed so close to Death’s groin as he stared at Death, a hint of red in his lovely hazel eyes, and he leaned forward to press a lingering kiss on the center of Death’s chest before slowly moving downward.

Biting back on a curse at the ticklish caresses, Death struggled not to squirm, especially when he could feel Andrew’s breath against his lower abdomen. Someone was a _sadist_ as well as a scoundrel, dammit, and seemed to enjoy the low whine of frustration which escaped him when those hands brushed along the inside of his thighs right before one of them wrapped around his hard cock.

“Andr-ah!” Death arched his back when Andrew finally took him in his mouth, at the sensation of so much wonderful moist warmth and suction and softness. He combed his fingers through his lover’s hair before clutching at the sheets as the pleasure washed through him, and cried out again when he felt a slight pressure before one of Andrew’s slick fingers pushed inside of him.

The wings rattled and hummed out their song louder and louder, along with Death’s gasps and raspy moans of his lover’s name as Andrew made him feel so much, the emotions so wonderful and powerful, until the pleasure twisted up too tightly for Death to bear (but in a good way, the _best_ way) – it was like slipping _between_ and losing oneself for a few moments, only with a rush of euphoria added to the sense of peace.

Shuddering from his release, Death let go of the sheets gripped between his fingers and reached for the feathers which rested against the bed around him, his smile trembling as much as his body as faint aftershocks of ecstasy still coursed through him – especially when Andrew twisted his fingers again, still inside of Death. “Ah!”

“Yeah, hadn’t noticed it at all,” Andrew drawled as he placed a damp kiss on the inside of Death’s right thigh as he slipped his fingers out, then reached for the bottle of lube while he shifted up onto his knees.

“What?” Death frowned at that statement, then sighed at the ‘you are an idiot’ look directed his way. “Hush,” he scolded as he ran his fingers along one of the chiming feathers, which provoked a faint shiver from his lover.

“Not saying anything.” Andrew pushed back Death’s knees and hesitated just for a moment, his gaze intent on Death as if searching for something, and slowly thrust inside when Death smiled at him, his arms reaching out to wrap around his lover’s neck. There was a low grunt as Andrew sunk into Death, his wings flaring up and out again as their song grew louder and more possessive before they settled once again to cage the two of them in on the bed.

His eyes gleaming red and a hint of fangs behind his full lips, Andrew gripped Death’s hips hard but never enough to hurt as he thrust in steady and deep. Death wrapped his legs around his lover’s hips and lost himself into the intense pleasure building inside of him once again, gave in to the rough lips sucking on and nipping at his neck, the body weighing him down (anchoring him) as it sparked such _feeling_ inside of him. His world just then was Andrew, was the sight and scent and taste and _feel_ of him, was smooth skin and cool feathers and soft hair beneath his fingers, was chapped lips and sharp teeth and teasing tongue against his skin, was weight and force and friction enough to drive Death to Delirium.

It was all so amazing, _Andrew_ was amazing, and Death held on, held against that not- _between_ until he felt his lover shudder against him, felt ragged breaths against his neck and then finally allowed it to wash through him again, and thought he might have smiled as the wings arched out once more and Andrew bit into his shoulder (softly, not enough to break skin) to stifle a gasp.

They were still for perhaps a minute or two until Andrew groaned and pulled away, but Death continued to smile as he lay sprawled on the bed, the feel of Andrew's hands and mouth still lingering on his body in a way he'd come to savor. He stared at the way the street lights from outside reflected on the metallic feathers of Andrew's wings and cast shadows in the faint dips of the muscles on his lover's broad back and shoulders, the way the darkness of the loft paled blond hair even more and cast those handsome features into stark relief.

"Staring," Andrew sang out in that bored manner of his while poking a finger into Death's left cheek to push his face into the soft mattress of their bed.

"I like how you look," Death confessed. "Although it often makes me want to have more se-"

"Be quiet for a few minutes," Andrew insisted, though Death smirked at the way those wings rustled in a song of desire and want and possession. He hummed as he was pulled from the bed so they could clean themselves in the shower, Andrew willing the wings away before they entered the large bathroom, where Death enjoyed a few leisurely kisses and gentle caresses while they washed each other, then laughed when a towel was thrown over his head.

Once they were dried and dressed in clean clothes, they returned to the kitchen where Death made Andrew one of his sickeningly sweet coffee drinks ('passable') and more tea for himself while his lover checked his phone. "Nicky wants to stop by and check out the kittens, he thinks it's a good time to adopt a couple and that there might be one or two people at the Laughing Fox who're interested, too."

"Oh." Death had discussed it with the mother of the litter, who would be happy to have her young find a good home rather than live out on the streets, and gave a slight nod. "When?"

"He'll stop by tomorrow, after class." Andrew typed a couple of things on his phone before setting it aside. "We could do with a few less furballs around here. Less worry about stepping on them."

"You wouldn't do that," Death argued as he draped his arms over Andrew's broad shoulders and smiled, which usually ended such discussions in his favor, he'd learned. However, that time the hair falling onto the nape of his neck was given a gentle tug while Andrew's hazel eyes narrowed, a hint of red flaring in their depths.

"A few less of them, Neil. I put up with a lot, so you can meet me halfway on this."

"All right," Death grumbled after a few seconds of them appearing to have a stand-off, even as something warm flourished inside of him when Andrew's hand slid along his neck to tug at the key hanging from the front of the collar; he'd talk to the cats and set up some kind of limit, maybe see if Thalia couldn't help out a little or create a shelter on the roof.

Andrew tugged on the key again. "You're plotting something." His eyes narrowed some more when all Death did was hum for a couple of seconds, and then smiled when he pulled them _between_ to Braga, where he felt numerous deaths from an apartment building fire. After that, they traveled wherever Death felt the pull of his Aspect, pausing every now and then for something to eat (mainly Andrew) or to regard an old piece of architecture or statue (mainly Death).

He’d been fine all those centuries when he’d done his work alone, when he’d traveled the world with barely a pause and rarely any companionship. He thought that he needed some time to himself after everything, needed some distance from other Named Ones while he figured out his role as the new Death and allowed a bit of healing, all things considered.

As Destiny would say, everything happened for a reason.

Andrew tugged on the hood of his grey sweatshirt as they were standing near the Seine while his lover ate a couple of croissants they’d just bought. “What’s going on in that fool head of yours now?” he asked as he broke off a piece of the flaky pastry and held it up to Death’s lips.

Frowning a little over both the question and the offering of food, Death parted his lips to accept the pastry (not bad) and swallowed before he answered. “Destiny came by while you were fetching the hot chocolate for your mother.”

Andrew was quiet while he finished the croissant. “And you’re telling me now, how wonderful.” The red was back in his eyes as he brushed flakes from his hand. “Can you guess how I’m feeling right now?”

Death sighed as he reached out with care to touch the center of his lover’s chest, and felt a wave of relief when Andrew didn’t knock his hand aside. “You had your family dinner, and I… I thought it could wait. I’m sorry.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Andrew reached out to tug on the key. “You’re telling me now, but no more waiting like this, do you understand?” He gave Death a displeased look as he tugged on the key again. “You tell me right away next time.”

“I will,” Death promised.

“What did he say?” Andrew pulled Death closer and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Uhm, he asked if we had found any suitable candidates and I admitted that no, not really. He didn’t seem upset, but he told me he was growing tired and that sooner would be better than later.”

Andrew seemed to consider that as the fingers of his left hand stroked along the skin above the waistband of Death’s jeans. “That’s it? No threats or ‘hurry up, you lazy bastard?’”

“No, though really, him reminding me of my oath is enough.” Death chewed on his bottom lip as he recalled the conversation. “He did say that it’s a good thing that I have you now, but that’s it.” He turned to look at his lover, who gave him a blank stare back before finishing the second croissant. “Andrew?”

He was given the same blank stare until the pastry was gone. “I’m only going to say this once, and then I really am going to put a damn leash on that thing.” Andrew motioned to the collar. “You don’t go anywhere without me or someone I approve of – Renee, Dan or Matt – with you, all right?”

Death glared at that. “But why? I’m _not_ a child, I can look after myself!”

“Because _Destiny_ just said it’s a bad thing if you’re by yourself,” Andrew gritted out. “So no being alone, got it?”

“That’s not quite what he said,” Death tried to argue. “And it probably has nothing to do with Wrath warning me about Deception and one of my father’s people being sighted together.”

Andrew’s eyes flared so bright a red that they appeared as fiery pits consuming the upper part of his face while his fangs flashed a stark white in his mouth. “And guess who’s barely going to leave the house now, huh? I’m going to _kick_ Wrath’s ass for not telling me himself.”

Death did some scowling of his own, his Aspect flaring to the point that any mortals had long fled the area around them. “You are a _truly_ loathsome churl.”

“Don’t think you’re gonna get out of this by flirting,” Andrew bit out while he flexed his shoulders as if struggling to hold back his wings. “So save the sweet-talk.”

“I fail to see how me acknowledging that you’re a pretentious rapscallion is me _flirting_!” Death shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest, his Aspect seeping out more and more while he tried to figure out why it was that Andrew could affect him so easily. “And I don’t have to listen to- wait, what are you- what?”

While he yelled at his lover, Andrew slowly reached out to him, at first tugging on the damn key and then sliding a hand along the back of Death’s neck, his skin so hot that it made Death shiver. Their chests almost pressed together, he exhaled against Death’s left cheek, breath warm and sweet smelling from all the damn pastries and mochas, and hesitated only until Death sighed and relaxed before leaning in for a kiss.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t stay furious at the bastard for very long – perhaps it was because he bore a symbol of Andrew’s concern and protectiveness around his neck all of the time, because Andrew had become a Fury partly due to Death.

So he reined in his Aspect even as he gave a slight punch to Andrew’s middle (which the bastard caught), and huffed when he pulled away. “I feel as if you’re worrying too much about these things.”

“Says the idiot who had half a sigil carved into him because he went off running around by himself when he knew Deception was targeting him.” Andrew gave his right hand a quick squeeze before letting it go. “The damn thing is finally all gone, I’m not going to let him touch you again. If he even tries to come near you, I’m breaking his neck.”

"I can-"

"No," Andrew insisted as his Aspect flared again. "You know he can't be trusted, so we're not giving him any openings. Especially if he's working with your father now."

Death closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath as he thought about his father, about cold blue eyes and a cruel smile and large hands which had never done anything but hurt him. A gentle touch to his left cheek made him draw in another breath, that one a little smoother, and open his eyes as he tilted his face into the caress.

"I'm not letting them touch you," Andrew said, his eyes still bright as bonfires and voice quiet with assurance.

"I know." Death summoned a slight smile as he bent his head until their foreheads touched. "But never, ever underestimate Destruction or any of his people."

"I won't. We'll see how long it takes for them to learn not to do the same with me."

Andrew pulled them _between_ to a small teashop in Yorkshire where Neil had a pot of Darjeeling and his lover a black coffee to which he added several lumps of sugar and lots of cream, along with a plate of scones. When Death felt more centered, they returned home and lay together on their bed, content to be near each other with the cats curled against Death and Andrew pressed against his back. After a little while they moved to sit up on the roof while Andrew smoked several cigarettes and they discussed a movie they'd seen with Thalia and Aglaia a few days ago (about some old women who'd taken to poisoning people and their adopted nephew's over-reaction to their hobby).

Nicky came over at one point and, after fussing over Death, made a high pitched sound and babbled in an odd voice over the litter of kittens. Yet he handled them with care and crooned to their mother about what a good job she was doing, and asked Neil about their personalities while taking various pictures and texting back and forth with Erik before deciding on two kittens - a black and white and a tortoiseshell, both females.

“I’ll show the pictures to everyone at work, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of them are gone soon, too. When can I take them home?” Nicky asked as he gave the kittens a few more pets before standing up.

Death looked at their mother, who told him a few more nights. “About a week.”

“Okay, that’ll give me and Erik some time to set things up. I’m so excited, our own little family!” Nicky grinned as he put his phone away.

“Why do I know you?” Andrew asked as he gave a careful nudge to an orange tabby kitten who was wandering too far from his mother.

“Aw, you love me, you do!” Nicky went to hug his cousin and seemed to think better of it when Andrew’s eyes flared red. “Uhm, yeah, I need to go to work now.”

“Yes, you do.”

A pout on his face, Nicky waved goodbye to Death before leaving, his phone in his hand once more as he chatted with Erik.

“That’s a few down,” Death told his lover in an effort to cheer him up. “Soon at least.” While he spoke, King jumped up in his arms.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he reached over to tug on the key, which made King give a lazy swat at his hand. “I’m watching you. No tricks.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Death insisted. It was… well, it was somewhat true, as he had no ‘tricks’ planned. Nothing ‘tricky’ in asking Thalia for help, right?

“Uh-huh.” Andrew leaned in for a brief kiss, and pulled away before King could complain. “Now come on, you’re treating me to dinner. I’m in the mood for noodles.”

“I still believe you should have been Gluttony,” Death muttered, and sighed when Sir came running over, eager for fish cakes.

******

Andrew flexed his claws and watched the blood drip from them onto the ruined carpet while Neil dealt with the abusive prick who thought he had the right to beat up and control another person because he was older and stronger and… well, Andrew never did understand why people thought they could destroy another person’s life. Despite Aaron’s taunts and accusations, he had no interest in such things, no desire to dominate his twin. He’d sent Nicky to bring Aaron to Oakland only because he knew leaving his brother in Luther’s hands would be a mistake twice over – because of what Luther had done to Nicky and because Aaron was an unprotected demi-god.

No, anything Andrew did was for the sake of protection, and Aaron was free to walk away whenever he wanted. But as long as he stayed, as long as he lived with Bee, then Aaron would follow a few simple rules. That didn’t make Andrew anything like the piece of shit he’d just killed while answering a call.

Neil dismissed the disbelieving spirit, as always, and then turned toward Andrew with a slight smile on his face as he reached out, the motion slow so as to give Andrew time to dodge it (he never did) and slid his cool fingers along Andrew’s bloody left cheek then through his hair while he stepped forward until his lips brushed against Andrew’s for a tender kiss. There was still a spark of rage and madness inside of Andrew, the emotions echoed in the song of his wings, but just a simple touch from Neil banked it for the time being, made the part of him that was ‘Vengeance’ settle until it would be called forth again by a poor soul in need.

Andrew appreciated his lover as always, the way that Neil was ever there for him without being too overbearing or too pushy, respecting his boundaries while being _right there_. “One moment,” he told his idiot while nuzzling Neil’s forehead, never mind the streak of blood it left behind (Neil certainly didn’t seem to care).

“Okay.” Neil stepped back and toyed with the cuffs of his grey hooded sweatshirt while Andrew went to deal with the huddled form in the corner of the bedroom.

“Chris.” Andrew stopped in front of the young man with the bruised face and torn clothes, his dark brown hair falling onto his green eyes made all the brighter for the darkening bruises around them. Squatting down a little, Andrew reached out until he barely touched the mortal (odd, to consider them around the same age, when the knowledge Andrew had gained as a Fury made him feel so much older) on the left shoulder. “It’s all right now.”

Tears welled up in Chris’ eyes. “He’ll never… he’s gone?”

“Yes. Close your eyes,” Andrew told him, and once Chris did that, used his magic to wipe away the mortal’s memories as well as cast a sleep spell on him, and then alter his clothes and bruises a little more. When the police came, it would seem that the prick’s attacker had knocked Chris out as well before fleeing.

If Natalie hadn’t killed Drake, would Andrew have ended up like Chris? He might have done his best to stay with Cass, to keep the ‘home’ he’d found with the Spears because he hadn’t known any better at the time, would have suffered through the abuse in silence (because no one had ever believed him) for a few kind smiles and home-cooked meals and brand-new clothes. Would he still be trapped with Drake, or have ended up with someone worse because he didn’t believe himself good enough for anything else?

But Natalie _had_ killed Drake, had answered his ‘prayer’, and Bee had _listened_ to him, had _believed_ him, and given him a true home. Had helped piece him back together well enough that when he’d found Neil, he’d been able to believe himself worthy of one gorgeous, questionably sane idiot.

Well, he’d been willing to take on the responsibilities of one gorgeous, questionably sane, cat-loving idiot.

Neil smiled as Andrew approached, his wings fanning forward to cage said idiot. “Done now?”

“Yes.” Andrew leaned in for a proper kiss that time, since they’d be going home to shower before they were to meet Renee, Allison and the others for some coffee, and felt a sort of peace when Neil hummed in pleasure. He almost slid his hands into Neil’s loose curls before he remembered about the mess on them, and gave a low growl when Neil nipped at his bottom lip before they went _between_ to the bathroom in their loft.

Once there, he willed his wings away so he could pull off his blood-splattered clothes (Hestia’s acolytes could do wonders with the laundry) while Neil started the water running in the shower, and once naked joined Andrew in the large stall. There may have been a bit of petting and kissing along with washing clean, but they did have plans so Andrew only allowed himself enough ‘fun’ to make Neil suitably dazed and earn himself a couple of archaic insults before he rinsed off and pulled a spluttering lover out of the shower as well.

/The fox place?/ King asked as she paused in grooming her tail while Sir perked her ears and lifted her head from her front paws as Andrew and Neil got dressed (a fitted black t-shirt, armbands and jeans for Andrew, a light grey hooded t-shirt and jeans for Neil).

/More of the crumbly treats?/ Sir asked as she stood up in a long, leisurely stretch.

“Yes.” Neil smiled as Sir climbed into his arms and King leapt from the bed to twine around his legs. “Well?”

Since that seemed to be directed at him, Andrew arched an eyebrow and held out his hand for Neil to hold, and the next step they took was into the seating area in the courtyard behind the Laughing Fox. Renee and Allison were already there, and a moment later Andrew could feel the faint brush of power which signaled Dan and Matt’s arrival.

“Ah, good, we’re not too late!” Matt said, a warm grin on his face as he waved to them; he was dressed in a dark red t-shirt and what looked to be cut-off jean shorts (with frayed threads trailing past his knees), while Dan was a bit more put together in some sort of light blue sleeveless romper. The weather was warm for spring, but as Named Ones, none of them really were affected by things like ‘heat’ or ‘cold’.

“Yes, well, I never saw a thing wrong with being fashionable late, but _someone_ has a different opinion on that,” Allison drawled while glancing at Renee, who radiated happiness as she sat next to her.

“It’s rude to make people wait,” Renee murmured as she tucked back a lock of her rainbow-tipped hair, then patted her lap in an indication that King was welcome to curl up there, which the cat accepted. “How are you two doing?” she asked Andrew and Neil.

“Well, for the most part.” Andrew nodded as he sat in the chair next to her.

“Such enthusiasm.” Allison rolled her eyes; that day she was dressed in some gauzy long-sleeved white dress with what looked to be a gold bodysuit beneath it, while Renee wore a pink sun dress with a lacy white cardigan over it.

“He hasn’t ingested his ten kilos of sugar for the day,” Neil explained as he sat down with Sir still in his arms. “I’m sure he’s going through some sort of withdrawal.”

“Idiots should be seen and not heard,” Andrew reminded his lover while tugging the grey hood further over Neil’s face.

“And here we were thinking that the two of you would mellow out a little once you started living together,” Dan said with a wry grin as she leaned forward with her elbows on the table and her chin propped up on her hands.

“Uhm… what?” Neil gave her a confused look while Andrew tapped his right forefinger against a knife sheathed in his left armband. “Ah, when are Jean and Jeremy arriving?”

Dan gave Andrew a cool look back in return – she _was_ Courage after all. “They should be here any second, Jean was finishing up in the bathroom.”

“Okay.” Neil settled back in his chair while Nicky and Aaron came out with trays of water and what looked to be a large slice of chocolate cake for Andrew.

“Sorry! It’s really busy today, a lot of people wanting iced coffees and cold brews and all that,” Nicky explained as he set a glass of water and the cake in front of Andrew. While he did that, Aaron gave Neil an assessing look, at least until Andrew caught his eye and gave him a particularly flat stare in return. “So, what does everyone want?”

Per the whole ‘we aren’t bothered by the heat’ thing, there were orders for hot tea and coffees (though Andrew was fine with an iced mocha) and desserts (a couple of lemon scones for Neil and the cats, another slice of cake for him). Right before Nicky and Aaron left, Jean and Jeremy finally arrived.

“It’s about time. What were you boys up to, hmm?” Allison asked as she gave them an arch look.

“I remembered a book that I needed to return to Abigail,” Jean proclaimed as he held up a small gift bag. “It contained some useful runes in it.”

“Oh.” Allison sounded a bit disappointed, which might have to do with the ongoing bet on when a certain Virtue was going to figure out that Jeremy wasn’t hanging out with him all of the time for the sake of ‘friendship’. Andrew thought it was ridiculous himself, but then again, he’d heard how many stories about gods and Named Ones attempting to hit on Neil over the centuries only to fail, and had the feeling that he’d be in a similar position if Dan hadn’t sent the oblivious idiot off to talk to Desire.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to learn that it helped," Renee said, which made Jean nod as he and Jeremy joined them at the table, his attention on Neil, who was quiet at first.

"You appear well," Andrew's lover said as Sir settled on his lap.

"Yes." Jean touched the center of his chest, the same area where Riko had attempted to mark Neil almost a year ago. "It's... it's beginning to fade."

"That's good." Neil gave a slight nod. "But be careful, because my uncle warned me that Deception's been seen with one of my father's men."

That made most of the 'people' gathered around the table still, with Renee sharing a heavy look with Andrew and Matt glaring while Dan and Jeremy appeared determined. "Which one?" Jean asked in a quiet voice offset by the worry in his grey eyes.

"Patrick." Neil's voice was just as quiet, while Sir pawed at his left forearm.

"Ah. Golems are difficult creatures to fight." Jean tugged on his overlong bangs while he seemed to consider something. "It's best to be prepared."

"You won't be fighting it alone," Jeremy insisted in that annoying, fervent manner of his, which made Jean glance at him and then away with a slight flush on his cheeks.

"Yeah, I think there's a few of us who want a shot at him." Matt cracked the knuckles of his right hand while he grinned. "Golems are a bigger challenge than ghouls, after all."

"If you're a suicidal idiot, but sure, go ahead." Allison waved her right hand through the air, the gemstones in her rings glittering in the sunlight. "It'll be fun to bet on how long it takes you to hack it into rocks - that or for you to regrow a limb or two."

"You wouldn't join in the fight?" Renee asked as she wrapped a lock of hair around her fingers.

Allison scoffed at the question. " _I_ wouldn't be in danger of being chopped up if I did."

"You're on," Matt told her.

As the two Named Ones shook hands over the latest bet, Nicky and Aaron came out with their orders. "Oh, great, more of you weirdos," Aaron grumbled even as Jeremy grinned at him.

"Do you ever mix them up?" Jeremy asked Neil, which made Neil blink several times as if he was trying to process the question while Aaron appeared horrified by it.

"Uhm, _no_. Do not ask that again." Silver swirled in Neil's eyes for a moment and Jeremy's grin faltered.

" _Fool_ ," Jean scolded his 'friend' in French while Neil accepted his mug of tea and plate of scones from a smirking Nicky, who began to prattle on about all of the stuff he was buying for the kittens and how three of the others had already found homes amongst the Laughing Foxes’ employees.

Recovered from Jeremy's 'joke', Aaron handed out the rest of the drinks and snacks while his cousin chatted, and even managed a polite nod for Renee, then headed back inside with Jean's and Jeremy's orders. "He's getting better," Renee remarked as she held her cup of Darjeeling tea between her hands.

"Relatively speaking," Allison rolled her eyes a little but smiled at her lover. "And we get older day by day, even if we still look amazing."

"Well, some of us," Dan replied in an arch tone, which made Allison throw a napkin at her and about half of the table laugh.

It was the usual gathering - Allison rambling on about how she was going to decorate her new home, Matt bemoaning his latest failure at cooking (and Jean grimacing in horror), Jeremy talking about some concert or movie he obviously intended to drag Jean off to on a 'not-date'. All the while, Neil drank his tea and nibbled on a scone while breaking off pieces for the cats, while Andrew drank his mocha and ate his cake and shared a comment or two with Renee.

It was... oddly enjoyable. He could leave at any time but for the moment, he didn't have anything better to do but sit there with Renee on one side and Neil on the other, and listen to the ridiculous conversation from beings whom had lived for centuries. He could discuss his 'work' earlier in the day without anyone blinking an eye over it, with there being nods of approval in fact.

Aaron had just brought out another round of drinks while Jeremy tried to talk Andrew and Neil into some sort of double 'date' with him and Jean (not happening ever), when there was a flare of unfamiliar power from the alley separating the Laughing Fox and the Indian restaurant the next street over. Andrew wasn't the only one rushing to his feet at the feel of it, but he was the one to shove himself in front of Neil first as a tall figure dressed in torn black clothes stumbled past the wards, managing a few steps before he fell to the ground. Right as he collapsed, another figure stepped from _between_ , a large man with some sort of thick, sharp blade in his hand, and strode toward the other 'man'.

"Despair," Neil said as he pressed against Andrew's back. "That's _Despair_."

"Is it? I- no, you're right," Dan agreed as she stepped forward with Matt at her side. Jeremy went to follow, only for Jean to grab onto his arm and shake his head.

"And the other guy?" Andrew asked as he pushed Neil behind him some more.

"One of my father's, from the feel of it," Neil admitted in a quiet voice which possessed a hint of a tremor. “I don’t know him.”

That answer made Andrew's wings burst from his back and his Aspect flare while Dan and Matt charged at the stranger, and Renee went right for Despair with a cursing Allison at her heels.

"I can-"

"Take one step forward and I'm buying that leash," Andrew promised, and rustled his wings when Neil called him a gobermouch.

Despair's attacker, a burly man dressed in dark brown and black leather and denim, swung his weapon at Matt, who ducked out of the way, then swore in an archaic version of Russian when Dan kicked him a stumbling step back. It was around then that Wymack stomped out into the courtyard, voice raised in indignation. "What the he- hey! Not here, dammit!"

"Tell that to the guy with the cleaver!" Matt called out as he dodged a swipe to his chest.

"Give me Despair," the man called out, his eyes pools of black and teeth jagged as if they'd been filed into points. "And little Abram, too."

"Not happening," Dan told him, her own eyes dark as her Aspect pushed forward, heavy in air already saturated with power. "You're-"

" _No._ " Neil spoke just the one word, but the air grew cold as his Aspect overwhelmed all of the others. "No, my father’s going to learn to be disappointed, the puke-stocking, cowardly-“ He made a hissing sound, of all things, when Andrew reached back to tug on his right hand. “ _What_?”

“We get the point.” By then, the stranger was snarling at Neil in outrage.

“You’re going to be broken, little boy, broken and-“

“ _No_ ,” Neil repeated as the cold intensified, as everyone stilled, as _time_ stilled, even the stranger – everyone and everything but Andrew, who rushed forward with a knife held in each hand.

He knew the Rules now, but the ‘man’ before him wasn’t a Named One, wasn’t even a god, just a being imbued with Destruction’s energies and so fair game, doubly so for threatening Neil (threatening _Death_ ). He’d threatened someone under Andrew’s ( _Tisiphone’s_ ) protection, and so there was no reason for Andrew to hold back.

Andrew weaved around Matt and Dan, who were still left stunned by Neil’s blast of power, and came in close to the prick who thought that he could show up at Wymack’s sanctuary and threaten his lover, could wreak damage (destruction) and shout out threats and get away with it. Wings trilling a song of madness and death and protection, he crossed his arms in front of him and then lashed them outward, the sharp blades of his knives aimed at the lackey’s throat, and leapt aside in time to avoid the spray of blood from severed arteries.

Destruction’s minion slumped down as a gurgle of protest slipped past his lips, hands clawing at the gaping wounds in his neck, and Andrew only paused long enough to ensure that his knives had done a proper job. Then he returned to Neil, the cats curled up at his lover’s feet, and accepted a napkin so he could clean his weapons while Neil stared past him at the body – no, the soul of the prick.

There was another cold flare and then Neil gave a dismissive wave of his left hand before he gazed at Andrew. “I could have dealt with him. Uhm, I mean, when he was still alive.” The cold slowly retreated as the silver faded from Neil’s lovely blue eyes.

“No, I’m allowed some fun,” Andrew argued as he dropped the bloody napkin to the ground and sheathed his knives, then reached out to cup his idiot’s face as he leaned in for a brief kiss – which was interrupted by a grumbling Wymack.

“All right, why the _fuck_ do I have a dead body and Despair in my back lot, huh?”

“Just call Anubis to take care of the body,” Allison said as Neil pulled away from Andrew. “Have Nicky cast a spell to keep anyone from coming back here until he shows up.”

“Dealt with a few bodies, have you?” Jeremy asked in an almost playful manner; Andrew looked over to find Renee still fussing over the unfamiliar Named One – Despair – while Allison stood near her as if on guard despite the fact that Wymack had joined them.

“Yeah, well, attend a few bacchanals and raves and you learn some things,” Allison said in one of the most subdued tones that Andrew had ever heard from her. “What I want to know is, why did Despair come here?” She gave Neil a pointed look. “It’s not like the two of you are good friends, right?”

“No.” Neil shook his head and made to step forward, before Andrew shoved him back; his ‘don’t move’ rule still in effect. “Really?”

“Yes,” Andrew insisted. “Stay away from the strange Named One connected to Deception and your father.”

While Neil sighed over that, Renee straightened up from where she’d been bent over Despair. “I don’t think he’s going to be much of a threat for now, since he’s passed out. We need Abby’s help as I’ve never seen one of us this wounded before.” She held up her hands, which were covered with blood.

Wymack glanced down at the seemingly young man sprawled out on the ground – from what Andrew could see, Despair had black hair and skin a couple of shades lighter than the god of second chances – and ran a hand over his grizzled hair. “I… dammit, this isn’t the best place for him, not with so many innocent mortals around, but I owe it to his mother. I don’t know why he came here, either, instead of one of the true sanctuary sites, unless he’s counting on me honoring my debt to Andraste.”

“ _Are_ you going to honor it?” Dan asked as she came over to stand by them.

“I… I guess I have to,” Wymack admitted with some reluctance. “I just have to figure out what to do with him.”

Neil sighed in an exaggerated manner as he tugged his hood back over his head; at some point in all of the excitement, it had slipped down onto his shoulders. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, his voice sharp with impatience. “He came here because _you’re_ his father.”

Even with the whole ‘stopped time’ thing going on, it became absolutely quiet just then as Wymack’s jaw dropped, Renee’s dark eyes went wide, Matt’s mouth twisted into a half-grin/half-grimace, Dan appeared flummoxed, Jean pained for some reason, Allison vastly amused, Jeremy confused, and the cats… well, they took to grooming themselves. Andrew could only stare back at his lover as Neil first gazed at everyone in annoyance and then it sunk in to him what had just happened in a flash of confusion and then apprehension. “Uhm… that wasn’t… didn’t everyone know?” he asked in a tiny voice.

“No!”

Neil flinched at the loud shouts and began to shimmer, but Andrew was quick to latch on to the idiot before he could slide _between_. “Oh no, you’re not going anywhere,” he declared as Neil gave him a panicked look. “I think you’ve a story or two to tell.”

That and Wymack had better share the whiskey.

*******


	2. Death Talks about the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, another chapter! My apologies for the slight delay on this - got an emergency project dropped on me at work which SHOULD be wrapped up now. Which is in part why this chapter is a little 'short' this week (though honestly? I think most of them will be around this length or a little longer because I don't foresee - HA - this story running as long as The First Breath. Famous last words, I know). 
> 
> Also? There's been some requests for a 'who's who', so here we go:  
> Neil - Death  
> Andrew - Vengeance/Tisiphone, Fury, descendant of Apollo, protection aspect  
> Kevin - Despair  
> Renee - Thalia/Good Cheer, Grace (used to be Tisiphone/Natalie/Natalia)  
> Allison - Aglaia/Splendor, Grace  
> Matt - Compassion, Virtue  
> Dan - Courage, Virtue (took over the Aspect from Neil's mother)  
> Jean - Temperance, Virtue  
> Jeremy - Charity, Virtue  
> Neil's uncle (Stuart) - Wrath, Vice (used to be Temperance)  
> Riko - Deception  
> Neil's father (Nathan) - Destruction  
> Wymack - Janus (god of second chances, among other things)  
> Abby - witch  
> Nicky - witch  
> Erik - light elf  
> Aaron - demigod (descendant of Apollo) healing aspect  
> Ichirou - Pride, Vice  
> Betsy - human but amazing  
> Kayleigh - Andraste 
> 
> Did I forget anybody?
> 
> There shouldn't be any new trigger warnings - just talk about the past et all.
> 
> And as always, much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Andrew glanced around Abby’s living room – her rather crowded living room, since the various Named Ones had decamped from the Laughing Fox to the witch’s house with a battered Despair rather than risk any more trouble showing up at the coffee shop.

Nicky, Renee and Aaron were back in the one spare bedroom with the witch/healer – Nicky since he was Abby’s assistant/student, Renee as she apparently knew a thing or two about healing (gained over the centuries), and Aaron because of his healing aspect (weak as it was). That left the rest of them out in the living room with a pacing Wymack, a Neil doing his best to disappear into the shadows, and a very quiet Jean.

Andrew gave up on poking at an aloe vera plant that was growing on a shelf to stand in front of Jean, who had his head down and was staring at his hands with a bit too much interest. “So, you know Riko rather well, explain to us what’s the deal with Despair showing up like that.”

Over near the hallway leading back to the bedrooms, Wymack straightened up from where he’d been slumped against the wall busy drinking from a bottle of whiskey (lucky ‘man’) and glared, the same time that Jeremy gave Andrew a dirty look and leaned closer to Jean while Neil tucked himself into an even smaller ball over in the chair where he was curled up with the cats. “Hey! I’m still waiting for your boyfriend to tell me how the hell he knows that Despair’s my son!” the god shouted.

Andrew waved him silent while he continued to stare down Jean. “Well? I thought Despair was bound to the prick, just like you used to be.”

“Leave him alone,” Jeremy demanded, his eye glowing a bright gold while his Aspect flared, but he wasn’t a match for Andrew, no one in the room was except for Neil.

“No,” Jean insisted as he finally looked up. “This is important,” he said as he glanced over at Neil then shuddered while his right hand clutched at the charm bag hanging from his neck. “Despair being here means that Deception and Destruction will come soon, which isn’t good. They’ll never let him escape for too long, he’s too important, unlike me.”

“That’s not true,” Jeremy tried to assure his crush while Jean shook his head.

“No, I’m just a Virtue while he’s… he’s much more powerful. Even more powerful than Deception, if not for the sigils holding him bound.”

“That’s true.” Neil spoke at last, which caused most of the people gathered in the room to react in surprise; Matt looked as if he wanted to go over to Andrew’s lover but Dan held him back. “It took a lot of careful planning for Deception and Destruction to create him in the first place.”

“My son.” Wymack resumed glaring at Neil. “That’s my _son_ you’re talking about. Which you still need to explain!”

Neil sighed as he stood up, King held in his arms and Sir quick to jump to his feet. “I thought you _knew_ ,” he insisted. “Wasn’t that why you reacted the way you did when Andraste died?” He came over to stand next to Andrew, silent on his feet and a hint of silver in his eyes.

“Oh boy, he said the ‘A’ and the ‘d’ word,” Allison murmured, her expression intent as if waiting for some sort of reaction.

Wymack made a growling sound as his hands clenched into fists and the flame tattoos on his forearms flared to twice their normal size. “She didn’t ‘die’, dammit! You make it sound like she grew old or something, but we know what happened! That shitty prick you call a father had his people destroy her temples and kill her followers, and now I-“

“ _Stop_ ,” Andrew said, just the one word, but his Aspect was out in full force, his fangs and claws bared and wings singing about madness and death and possession as one of them wrapped around a shivering Neil while he stared down the furious god.

It was enough to make Wymack flinch, to realize that he shouldn’t talk to Neil like that, to not bring up Destruction and throw the bastard in Neil’s face as if he had been in any way involved with what his father had done. “I… I’m sorry,” Wymack said as his rage burned out. “But now I know what happened to her, I guess, and I want to rip out that prick’s heart – or what passes for it.”

“There’s a long list of people who wish to do the same,” Neil said in a quiet voice as he allowed the wing to press him closer to Andrew’s side. “And again, I thought you knew.” He closed his eyes and sighed as his own Aspect flared for a moment. “I... it all happened _after_ ,” he admitted. “In the century or two after I became Death.” When he’d been lost in _being_ Death, in other words. “Much of it is still confusing, but I remember meeting Andraste.” Neil opened his eyes and touched the center of his chest while he gazed at Wymack in a detached manner. “Gods aren’t Named Ones, so I have access to their memories, and among hers was of you being Despair’s father.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment as if debating something. “I suppose I didn’t pay enough attention to all of them to realize that she never told you?” There was a hint of red along his high cheekbones while Allison took to chortling. “I mean, it’s not like I _want_ to pay attention to all of them. The, uhm, strong ones are more than enough.”

“Oh, now _that’s_ something I’m gonna ask about later,” the Grace declared, only to give Wymack a flat look when he scowled at her. “What?”

“I’d like to focus on the fact that I have a _son_ , if you don’t mind.” His scowl intensified when she waved away his complaint. “Thank you,” he said, his deep voice thick with sarcasm. “Now you’re sure?” That was directed at Neil.  “About Despair, I mean.”

“Yes.” Now Neil sounded a bit annoyed. “He was conceived during the Beltane festival of-“

“Enough! I remember now!” Wymack appeared flustered as he slashed his right hand through the air, while Allison and Matt looked on with interest, Dan shook her head, and Jeremy was still busy tending to a stressed Jean. “We got in a fight not long after that and… well, I didn’t hear about her having a kid until a decade or so later, supposedly from sleeping with some demi-god. Next thing I knew, she was gone and the kid was Despair.”

Neil stirred against Andrew until he relaxed his wing a little. “All _I_ know is what I picked up from his mother and Deception over the years,” Neil admitted. “When their plan failed with me, they went looking for another to take on Despair’s Aspect, and assumed that a goddess and her son were easier… prey than a Virtue and her child. I don’t know why they picked Andraste, though perhaps the fact that she was hiding her son’s true parentage had something to do with it.”

Wymack flinched at that. “Dammit, she left herself open to the rat bastard.”

It was quiet for a little while after that; Andrew willed his wings away though Neil remained at his side. “What’s the deal with Riko?” he repeated to Jean, who remained huddled on the couch with the charm bag held between his hands. “What do you know about Despair?”

Jean shook his head and motioned for Jeremy to remain quiet when the not-boyfriend went to protest. “That he’s bound, just like I was, and that he was used to make those two stronger. That he had very little free will, even less than I did, so I didn't interact with him much."

About to comment on how unhelpful the Virtue was being, Andrew was prevented from doing so by Abby appearing in the living room, flanked by his cousin and brother with Renee trailing behind. The witch looked exhausted, as did the other three, and gave Wymack a wan smile as she went over to him.

"How is he?" the god asked while everyone else moved closer in an unsubtle attempt to eavesdrop.

"He's resting now," Abby said, her voice quiet and hands trembling as she accepted the bottle of whiskey from Wymack and took a quick sip; Dan hurried off into the kitchen, presumably to make coffee or tea, and gave Matt a stern look to stay behind then motioned for Jeremy to follow with her instead. Matt was crestfallen over the denial, but then he rallied and went over to Andrew and Neil.

"So he's all right? I mean, he looked pretty rough and all."

Abby hesitated a moment before she nodded and handed back the bottle. "Relatively speaking, yes. He's lost a lot of blood and if he was mortal, then...," she gave a quick glance over at Neil, "but he should be fine in a few days."

Matt whistled in surprise while Allison's blue eyes went wide. "That's a long time to heal for one of us."

"Well, it was a charmed blade," she explained. "Which is why it broke through the sigils holding him bound."

"Did it?" Andrew asked as he wrapped his right hand around the back of Neil's neck when his lover shivered at the mention of ‘sigil’. "Are you certain?" He found it rather suspicious that Wrath and Destiny had warned Neil just the other day and then all of a sudden, Despair appeared out of nowhere.

"What are you trying to say?" Wymack asked with a brush of power, enough to make the cats hiss and Aaron cringe.

"That it's rather odd, him breaking free right now." Andrew stared down the old god while his own Aspect slipped free again, mindful to keep it somewhat under control because of Aaron and Nicky. "That it's probably a trap."

"So what, he let himself get beat up just to get at your boyfriend, is that it? You ever think that not everything is about you two, eh? That the poor kid just might have been desperate to get away?” Wymack yelled while Abby winced and Aaron cringed from the flare of power; Renee was quick to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

Before Andrew could do anything, though, Jean spoke up with a rare show of his own Aspect, his grey eyes bleeding white. “Except that in the centuries since Despair has been bound, he’s never tried to break free. In the centuries that I was bound, _I_ could never do a thing until Death and Charity intervened.” His Aspect sputtered out as he cast a shy glance Jeremy’s way then ducked his head. “So what changed things now?”

“Andrew kicked Deception’s ass and took a toy or two away, maybe?” Allison offered, which earned her a couple of dirty looks. “Hey, just putting it out there! The asshole _is_ Deception, so how do we know this isn’t a trick? Andrew’s right to be suspicious.”

Hadn’t Neil said that Riko was behind the death of an old lover of hers? No wonder the Grace was siding with Andrew on this, even if it looked as if no one else agreed.

Abby shook her head, tendrils of ash blonde hair slipping from the loose ponytail she’d pulled it into earlier. “I don’t think so, though Despair was only able to talk a little while we were tending to him. He seemed too panicked and afraid of being forced to go back, and I feel that those emotions were genuine.” She paused a moment while she glanced over at Neil and Andrew. “He also wants to talk to you two.”

Oh wasn’t that interesting. “When?” Andrew asked while Neil went still beside him.

“Not until he’s recovered a little more,” Abby insisted, her expression stern. “Because I know you’re going to want to question him.”

Damn right he did – there was no way Andrew was allowing a potential threat around his lover and family so he’d do whatever was necessary to make sure that this Despair wasn’t one. “And how soon will that be?”

Wymack scowled as he stepped forward, but that time he kept his true nature under wraps. “No, you leave him alone until Abby says that he’s ready to talk, dammit! He came to me for protection and that’s what he’s getting! The same that I gave you, your cousin and your brother!”

…Someone wasn’t playing fair right then, but there wasn’t much Andrew could do when he was in the god’s debt because of Aaron. Fortunately – for Wymack – Renee spoke up. “We’ll ward the house to help ensure that it’s safe,” she offered to Andrew with a weary smile. “Why don’t you take Nicky and Aaron home?”

It wasn’t like him to leave things unfinished, but his brother and cousin appeared tired, not to mention that Neil was a little too quiet at the moment. “We’ll be back,” he promised Wymack, and the four of them (and the cats) left right around when Dan and Jeremy returned from the kitchen with refreshments.

Bee was a bit surprised to see Nicky and Aaron ‘dropped off’ by Andrew and Neil, and was given a very bare-bones explanation of what had happened (more Named Ones shit, be very careful, Andrew and Neil would stop by the following day to talk about things in detail). Right then it was clear that Aaron wanted nothing more than to grab something to eat and then crash to restore the energy he’d used up while helping Abby to heal Despair and that Nicky wanted Erik, so Andrew, Neil and the cats left.

They stepped back home, where the cats were quick to run off to whatever comfortable spot they preferred, while Neil hesitated a moment before he went to the kitchen and started hot water brewing for tea. When he headed for the espresso machine, Andrew moved to block him from it. "That's okay," he told his lover.

He found it... it was a bit endearing he supposed, that Neil would make Irish Breakfast tea for himself when he was upset or wanted something to drink when 'socializing', and then go to make some fancy drink for Andrew. That there were all these little habits and rituals tied to Andrew in his life, these small bits of being 'human' that this powerful, immortal being did to help center himself.

It just sucked that at the moment, Neil needed to calm down because of something related to his father and Riko.

So Andrew went to slide his right hand around his lover's nape and pull Neil in close enough so their foreheads could touch. "It'll be all right. I won't let them near you."

"That... I hope that's true." Neil gave a tiny sigh when Andrew frowned over those words. "I'm not doubting you, it's just... they usually find a way to hurt me in one way or another." His smile just then was a sad, wistful thing as he touched Andrew's chest above his heart then pulled away with obvious reluctance to add the hot water to the teapot; it was another 'human' thing, how he employed mundane tools to heat up the water and let the leaves steep, rather than use his power to make it. "I don't... it's not very clear, my time as Abram," he explained. "Some memories are clearer than others, and there are gaps - large pieces gone from my childhood. But what I remember most about my father is pain and fear, and it's been the same since I've gained my Aspect. People fear me because I am Death, I am the end of all things, of them... but they fear my father because he'll make them _beg_ for me to end their suffering at his hands."

Which was exactly what Neil - what _Abram_ \- had done all those many years ago, had reached out to Death instead of agreeing to become the new Despair. And that being had passed on the Aspect to him, had made him more powerful than his father.

"If it comes down to it, will you be able to fight him?" Andrew asked as he went over to stand beside Neil.

His lover stilled at the question for a moment, then set the electric kettle down on the counter. "I look forward to the day when I can stand before him and ensure that he is gone from every universe forever - there will always be a Destruction, but it won't be _him_ , not any longer." He looked at Andrew with eyes gleaming as two twin pools of silver. "Fighting him? It won't be easy, but I owe it for what he did to my mother, and I want him _gone_." He hesitated again. "It's just... it needs to be done right."

It needed to be done by the Rules; one thing that Andrew had come to understand over the last few months was that Neil wouldn't risk what had happened to his mother - it wasn't that he refused to pay such a cost, it was just that he knew that breaking the Rules often meant that other (loved) ones paid the price as well. His mother had lost her Aspect, Abram had lost his 'self', and Temperance had become Wrath - all of those things had been connected.

It might be argued that Andraste and her son were connected as well, considering what had happened afterwards.

"I won't let that happen," Andrew assured him. "He and Riko deserve justice and vengeance to come down upon them a dozen times over." They had spilled blood mortal and immortal, after all, it was just that they were so powerful that no one wanted to confront them - at least, confront Destruction.

Neil stared at him for several seconds, his demeanor so inhuman during that time, and then he gave Andrew a tremulous smile. "You do realize that you're setting yourself up for a lot of work, don't you? How can you be so lazy if you do this?"

Andrew gave him a flat look as he stepped away to fetch some ice cream. "Who said that _I'll_ be the one doing all of the hard work? I'll just inflict your idiocy upon them for a few minutes, and they'll be begging for mercy."

"Ah, I see." The smile remained as Neil poured the tea. "However do you put up with me? Constantly hovering on the edge of a diabetic coma perhaps?"

"It's quite the sacrifice, but I figure if you're focused on me, it limits the damage to everyone else," Andrew quipped as he flipped off the lid to the pint of triple chocolate crunch then scooped some into his mouth. Not that he’d been concerned about it in the past, but it was rather nice to be able to eat whatever he wanted without the fear of calories or mortal illnesses.

"Hmm, so valiant of you." Neil leaned against the counter while he sipped his tea, his eyes back to ‘normal’ and his posture relaxed; Andrew knew that his lover still had quite a few issues in regards to Destruction and Riko – he bore a latticework of scars all over his body because of them, had lost his mother (even if Andrew thought that it wasn’t much of a loss considering the few memories Neil did have of her) and been driven to take on the Aspect of _Death_ because of them.

Yet he stood there drinking the same type of tea that Andrew had picked out for him on a whim upon seeing his red hair and hearing that faint accent, wore the collar with the key hanging from it that Andrew had given him, and most important of all, he _stayed_ instead of running. He _stayed_ with Andrew in this loft with all of the damned cats and a freezer stocked with ice cream and little else, watched movies together and sat up on the roof while Andrew smoked and then there were the times when he said ‘yes’….

Once they were finished with their respective snacks (or whatever), Andrew led Neil up to their bed, where they lay down together, Neil’s back to Andrew’s chest with his wings out so he could drape the one over them. Neil hummed, the sound almost like a purr, as his cool body soaked in Andrew’s heat, his fingers wrapped around Andrew’s arms.

It was around the time when King and Sir curled up with them that he began to speak. “I… there’s this one moment that I remember, back when I was… well, it’s a little different, being a child of Named Ones,” Neil tried to explain as he pressed even closer to Andrew. “But I was still young, still learning, and my parents took me to watch this one tribe attack another.”

“Yes, suitable entertainment for a child,” Andrew drawled as his wing settled more firmly around his lover, its feathers rustling out a discordant melody of sorrow and peace and need.

“Hmm, it was to show me their Aspects,” Neil tried to explain as he reached out to stroke his fingers along the metallic feathers. “How humans destroy so easily, yet some – not many – will stand in the face of death and pain to protect those they love or what they believe in. I learned that day that despite the power of Destruction, that Courage will persevere.” He was quiet as he shivered for a moment, his own Aspect flaring as Andrew hugged him close. “My father… it wasn’t what he wanted me to learn.”

“Let me guess, he wanted you to be awed by his greatness, to think of him as the stronger one of the two, right?”

Neil was quiet for a moment before he twisted around to face Andrew. “In a way he is – my mother was only a Virtue, and so many more mortals fall under my father’s sway. So much _more_ fall under my father’s domain. Yet courage can stand up to destruction, in a sense, can even stop it.” His expression grew wistful as his fingers twisted in the soft fabric of Andrew’s black shirt. “But not my mother.”

It seemed to Andrew that if anyone should have been Despair, it was Neil’s mother; she had given in to it when she’d taken him and run rather than sent him to safety with Temperance/Wrath and stood up to Destruction on her own. Maybe she couldn’t have taken down the more powerful Named One on her own… but she could have made the bastard break enough Rules that her brother could have called the Furies down on him and saved Abram.

But would Andrew have met Neil then? Would Abram have taken on his mother’s aspect or another one? Would he have been just out of reach of everyone else long enough for Andrew to cross his path so many centuries later?

Andrew wondered about the Fates, too… but unlike a certain cat-loving idiot who thought they were punishing him, he couldn’t help but think that certain things had been meant to be, as much as he hated to feel ‘manipulated’ in any manner.

“No, not your mother,” Andrew agreed as he cupped Neil’s face with his right hand. “But you stood up to him, and soon enough you’ll help stop him.” He clicked his tongue as he bent his head even closer. “Though if you try to do it alone? I will _kick_ your ass.”

“Why do _I_ suffer _you_?” Neil asked in a plaintive manner while he slid his arms around Andrew’s neck.

“You’re speaking in tongues again, you should really stop that,” Andrew murmured as he tugged his lover forward to close the tiny bit of distance between them.

“Impudent rapscall-“ The rest of Neil’s insult was cut short, but he didn’t seem to mind if the way he kissed Andrew back was any indication.

The cats jumped off of the bed with indignant little ‘merphs’ when Andrew’s wing lifted enough for his and Neil’s tops to be discarded (sometimes it was nice to do things the ‘mortal’ way, such as sliding your hands over your lover’s lean, sensitive body to remove his clothes), their jeans soon to follow, and then Neil rolled onto his back as he tugged Andrew along. More than content to settle on top of his idiot, Andrew leaned down to give Neil another kiss, one fierce enough to draw out a needy moan, before he nipped his way along Neil’s chin and jaw until he reached the smooth expanse of skin above the collar.

“’Drew,” Neil breathed out, fingers entangled in Andrew’s hair and left leg wrapped around Andrew’s hip as they rocked together, hidden in the sanctuary of his wings. So many emotions filled him right then, so powerful and overwhelming, yet he’d learned that in regards to Neil that it was all right to just… to just _accept_ , to trust them.

To trust _Neil_.

To let the need and desire flow through him, to not fight the pleasure and something so potent and consuming that it dwarfed the rest. It felt so _good_ to have Neil beneath him, to taste him and feel him, to hear him gasp and moan like that, to stutter out Andrew’s name. To know that he’d never allowed anyone to touch him like this, never let anyone this close before, never wanted anyone _but_ Andrew.

Sometimes the knowledge of what all Neil was and what he gave to Andrew was almost as much of a turn-on as the sex itself; it certainly spurred Andrew on to pull his lover closer, to protect him and hold him and… and…

Neil drove him crazy in so many, _many_ different ways, and Andrew had long stopped caring.

Right then he couldn’t do anything but kiss him harder, to tug him closer as he ground their hips together faster, nerves afire with ecstasy. Neil broke off the kiss with a sharp gasp as his back arched off of the bed, starlight pouring forth from the thin slits of his eyes and fingers digging into Andrew’s shoulders as he came, Andrew’s name from his lips a rough rasp in contrast to the metallic song of the rattling wings.

The pleasure raged at the sight of Andrew’s lover, at the sound of his name and the feel of those trembling fingers sliding back through his hair; Andrew bowed his head as he came as well, his wings flaring upward for a few seconds and then dropping once more as he slumped against a humming idiot.

“Hmm, that was very nice,” Neil said in a sated tone. “It’s still not my favor-“ He blinked up at Andrew, who had put his hand over the unfiltered fool’s mouth.

“What did I say about ranking sexual positions?” Andrew asked before removing his hand and sitting up with a slight grimace at the mess on both of them; he had to admit that yes, it wasn’t his ‘favorite’ either for that reason, even if it felt damn good at the time.

“’That one should be thankful for getting any sex in the first place and not do it’,” Neil repeated in a rote manner before sighing. “I wasn’t complaining, I was just going to… never mind,” he sighed again when he caught Andrew’s displeased look. “I don’t understand people, you talk about sex so much and then when I try to make a comment about it, everyone tells me to be quiet.”

Because despite being alive for millennia, Neil still didn’t grasp the proper context for ‘sex talk’. “You can talk about whether or not you want to do something or if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” Andrew reminded him. “Baby steps.” At Neil’s confused look at that, he gave up on the discussion and pulled his lover off of the bed. “Shower. Now.”

“I do like doing it in there.” Neil smiled as they headed to the bathroom. “In case you wanted to do it some more.”

Yes, Neil _definitely_ drove Andrew crazy.

That didn’t mean that sex in the shower right then was out of the question.

*******

Death was playing with the kittens by letting them take turns leaping up and trying to catch the strings of his dark grey hooded t-shirt when Andrew came down from the upper level, a faint frown on his face. “Aren’t they supposed to be gone soon?”

“Another couple of days.” Death gave the calico kitten a pet then stood up. “Are we going now?”

“Yes, if you’re done playing with the tiny freeloaders.”

Someone was in an unpleasant mood. Yet Death could understand, since his lover was anxious about protecting his family in light of Despair’s sudden arrival in their life. “I was just waiting for you,” he said as he went over to Andrew, which seemed to smooth out the annoyance and earned a tug on the key dangling from Death’s neck.

“For once, do your best to think before you speak,” Andrew told him, then yanked him the rest of the way into a fierce kiss which made Death moan in delight and wish that they didn’t have to go to Betsy Dobson’s house. Yet before he could suggest an alternative plan (or utter an insult for the insinuation that he spoke anything thoughtless), the churl pulled them _between_ and into the mortal’s house.

“Ah, I see that things continue to progress well for the two of you,” Betsy Dobson remarked with a wry tone, which prompted Andrew to break off the kiss. “Hello, Neil.”

Death opened his eyes to find Andrew’s adopted mother smiling at him, dressed in pale blue sweats and her hair pulled back in a messy bun. They had arrived in the kitchen of her home where she was busy making what smelled to be the hot chocolate that she and Andrew favored. “Hello, Betsy. You look rather comfortable.” He frowned when Andrew yanked on the key again. “ _What_?”

“ _Think_ , idiot.”

Betsy laughed as she handed one of the mugs to her ill-mannered son. “No, that’s quite accurate, really. There’s no reason to stand on formality when he’s family, right?” Her smile widened when Death went still except to blink at that comment. “How about a cup of tea? I’m hoping that we don’t have to break out the wine just yet.”

“Ah, that would be very nice,” Death said in a quiet voice as he thought about Betsy accepting him as a member of the family.

“ _Breathe_ ,” Andrew told him with a nudge to the side, but that time his voice was softer and there was a hint of amusement in his almost golden eyes.

“Andrew? Neil? You’re here, right?” Nicky came in from the living room, along with Erik and Aaron; Death felt Andrew stiffen at the sight of the Ljósálfar because of the glamor cast on the broadsword strapped across his back. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“When are you taking the cats?” Andrew asked as he gave Erik a narrowed look, which Nicky missed. Erik caught it, though, and gave a pointed gaze back to Andrew’s cousin, making it clear that he wore the weapon because of Nicky, which made Andrew relax a little.

“Ah, maybe tomorrow? Things have been a bit crazy because of you know who, and _someone’s_ insisting that he drives me around everywhere.” Nicky rolled his eyes over that, but he smiled at his boyfriend none the less.

“I know you’re powerful, baby, but you’re still learning from Abby and Destruction’s people aren’t to be taken lightly,” Erik told Nicky as he caressed his left cheek, which made _Aaron_ roll his eyes and Nicky smile in happiness. “Allow me to worry about you a little.”

“Erik is renowned among the Ljósálfar for his prowess as a fighter,” Death murmured, more for Andrew than anyone. “I dare say he would give Matt quite a challenge.”

Andrew grunted into his mug of hot chocolate and relaxed a little more.

“Now if we’re all here, perhaps you can tell me just why Erik’s so concerned about Nicky and why we have to be so careful?” Betsy paused in putting a kettle of fresh water on the stove to give Andrew a curious look. “What is this about Despair?”

“More of their weird shit,” Aaron muttered, but it lacked the usual bite.

“Yes, Despair,” Death said as the five of them, minus Betsy, sat down at the new kitchen table that had replaced the smaller one in the last couple of months; while the hot water boiled, Betsy fetched coffee for Nicky, Erik and Aaron, and a store bought cake was set down on table to Andrew’s delight.

Death waited until their ‘hostess’ joined them to begin talking. “You are somewhat familiar with my story, about how my father and Deception attempted to make me into a pawn they could control, and instead I became Death?” He knew that Andrew had told them a little about his past, how he’d been… had been something other than Death at one point, but never mortal. Had explained why Deception (Riko) had targeted Betsy in an attempt to get at him (Death), about why Andrew ‘needed’ to protect him.

“Yes, this is about Deception and Destruction.” Betsy frowned as she wrapped her hands around her mostly untouched mug of hot chocolate. “So they were trying to make you into Despair? Why would that benefit them? I would think that if they were after power, they’d want you as Death, no offense.”

He gave her a slight smile while Erik did appear offended, Nicky intrigued and Aaron interested despite himself. “It’s because they need a Named One powerful enough from which they can benefit yet not too powerful that they can’t control them.” He touched the center of his chest where the half-carved sigil had healed and shivered when Andrew’s warm hand wrapped around his neck in an attempt to comfort. “I don’t… it’s frightening to consider what would happen if they bound me, _Death_ , to them, as my Aspect is one of the most powerful ones out there.”

“ _The_ most powerful,” Erik argued. “You never acknowledge your true importance.”

Death gave a slight shrug at that, his own attention focused on the mug of tea which Betsy had given him. “Destiny is-“

“It would be catastrophic if Destruction and Deception ever controlled you,” Erik continued. “You are the-“

“ _Enough_ ,” Andrew said, and Erik fell quiet in an instant; Death glanced up to see a spark of red in his lover’s eyes and felt his unease over the topic about his status as a Named One fade away. “We’re talking about Despair, not this idiot.”

“Yes,” Death agreed before Erik could take even more offense on his part. “And Despair feeds them because he helps to provide a… well, consider it a crack in the foundation?” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment while he debated how to phrase things. “When you despair, when you’re that desperate, you open yourself to things. To possibilities.”

“Like a lying bastard or wanting to see how to go about whatever or whoever is causing you pain to be wiped away,” Andrew explained as he once more gave Death’s nape a gentle squeeze. “A lot of stuff is connected like that.”

Aaron frowned at his brother. “How do _you_ know this?”

Andrew gave him a slight smile with too sharp teeth. “I didn’t just inherit a pair of fancy wings with the Aspect. There’s a lot that comes with it, like knowing what a _certain_ idiot is always spouting.”

“The Fates are truly capricious,” Death whined as he gave Erik a pained look. “I honestly believe that they just don’t like me for no good reason.”

Erik nodded in sympathy. “Did you try myrrh and a pair of virgin-“

“Suggest a sacrifice and Nicky’s going to be single again,” Andrew informed the light elf. “ _No sacrifices_.” That was backed up by a rather harsh nudge in Death’s ribs.

“Pretentious churl,” Death grumbled before sipping his tea.

“What did I say about thinking before you speak?” Andrew reminded him while inflicting yet another nudge to the ribs.

“Oh, I _thought_ about that,” Death told him with a bright smile. “I think it all the time, in fact.”

Aaron slammed his mug down on the table while glaring at Betsy. “Can’t you do something about them? Why do they always have to do that in front of people?”

Betsy had a pleased expression on her face as she cut into the cake, which made Andrew stop staring with displeasure at his brother. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to accept that for them it’s a sign of affection. I believe it grows out of Andrew’s issues with openly displaying affection and Neil’s… well, he’s a bit more difficult to figure out, but it’s probably a mix of him experiencing so many different societal norms over the years that he doesn’t see the point of any of them, and that he really is clueless about the whole process.”

“Uhm,” Death stated while he blinked at… well… all of that.

Meanwhile, Andrew crossed his arms over his chest and gave his mother a flat look. “I don’t have ‘issues openly displaying affection’ and give me a bigger piece of cake.”

“’I would like’,” Betsy reminded him with a smile. “And have you told Neil that you love him yet? Or even like him?”

“ _Uhm_ ,” Death repeated before he started to slip _between_ , only to have his churl of a lover grab onto the front of his shirt.

“Oh no, if I have to suffer through this, so do you,” Andrew declared. “And an ever bigger piece now, dammit.”

“Oh hell, this is worth having Destruction come after us,” Nicky squealed, his hands crossed over his mouth as if he was trying to hide his smile just then.

Meanwhile, Erik had moved from being offended to outright scandalized. “What? You haven’t declared your love yet?” he all but shouted at Andrew. “No epic poem to put the smallest portion of your emotions into words? No hand-forged armor out of Illyam wyrm scales so your love can be safe when you’re away? No-“

“You guys are _freaks_ ,” Aaron insisted as he buried his head in his hands. “Why do I have to be related to freaks? What happened to a Starbucks gift card and flowers?”

“Yes, the Night Star orchid, another acceptable gift!” Erik continued while attempting to stare down Andrew.

“Neil, did I or did I not buy a bag of cat food the other day?” Andrew asked in a quiet voice while Death wondered if he could cause some sort of distraction and slip away – unfortunately the cats were busy at the moment, King checking up on Despair and Sir asking Bastet for a favor and so couldn’t help him.

“Ah, yes you did, a very large bag. The cats were most appreciative about it, thank you.”

“See, I get him ‘acceptable’ gifts all the time,” Andrew insisted while he tapped a metal claw against the table. “Now where’s my cake?”

“I think this is one that you boys will have to agree to disagree about,” Betsy declared as she handed Andrew a plate covered with what had to be about a third of the chocolate cake, while Erik sat there in stunned silence.

“What do you even do with that armor?” Aaron asked Nicky when he lifted his head, only to make a sound of extreme disgust when his cousin blushed and gave a nervous laugh. “Never mind, _never mind_! Where’s the wine, dammit?”

“Back to why we’re here,” Andrew said after he had a large bite of cake. “Nicky’s stuck with Erik, the poor bastard,” he ignored the glare sent his way by both his cousin and the light elf, “so Bee and Aaron, you need to be careful when you’re out at work and school.” He waved his fork about in the air for a moment before stabbing it into the cake. “Neil and I have refreshed the wards on everything and you fall under the Rules, but there’s no sense in doing something stupid so don’t trust any strangers and don’t go running all over the place.”

Aaron paused in trying to scoot his chair away from his cousin to gaze at Andrew. “What do you mean by ‘rules’. You keep bringing them up all of the time.”

“Oh boy,” Nicky mumbled beneath his breath while Betsy adjusted her glasses in evident interest. “Here we go.”

Death fidgeted with his mug as he attempted to explain something so important to the (mostly) mortal. “I suppose you can look at them this way – there are a few basic principles, a few set limits that govern us Named Ones, and they are these ‘Rules’. They prevent us from killing each other without just cause, they are in part why there are Furies,” he nodded to Andrew, “and they keep us from infringing upon each other’s Aspect. They limit, to some degree, the amount of ‘meddling’ we can do as well.”

Aaron stared back at him before sighing and turning toward Andrew. “What did he just say?”

“Riko and Destruction can’t harm you without me being able to rip out their hearts – at least in theory. You’re family, and fucking with _you_ means _I,_ as a Named One, can call a blood price down on them, that’s one of the Rules,” Andrew clarified. “Unfortunately I can’t do too much to them until they do break a Rule, and they’re good at twisting things.”

Aaron was back to giving Death a disappointed look. “He couldn’t _say_ that?”

“ _No_.” Andrew sounded rather aggrieved just then.

“Both of you are-“

“Ah, no more fighting,” Betsy said as she waved an icing-smeared knife around. “Anyone else for more cake?”

“Before the glutton eats it all,” Death muttered, only to sigh when his battered ribs were abused yet again.

Nicky asked for another piece, which earned him a narrow look from Andrew, but before any true fighting could break out, King appeared and hopped up onto Death’s lap. /The whiny one is awake and wants to talk to you./

“Now that sounds promising,” Andrew remarked as he scooped up the last bit of cake on his plate.

“Doesn’t it?” Death spared a thought about curses and the Fates before he gave Betsy a wan smile. “Thank you for the tea.”

“You’re welcome,” she told him while Andrew hacked off another slice of cake and ate it quickly before standing up. “I assume you’re leaving?”

“Yes, it appears that Despair is ready to talk to us.”

“Be careful,” Andrew told his family, the words slightly distorted because of the mouthful of cake.

Aaron snorted at the order as he helped himself to the cake as well. “Yeah, why would I want to deal with more of your kind? Trust me, I’ll do what I can to avoid them.”

“Uhm… they’re your kind, too,” Nicky reminded the demi-god; Death missed the rest of the argument since he and Andrew left for Abby’s house at that moment.

There were decidedly less Named Ones at the residence there – Temperance and Charity had returned to the apartment (and the powerful wards around it), along with Courage and Compassion, though Thalia and Aglaia remained, it seemed. Thalia got up from the couch to come greet them, smiling at Andrew and reaching down to pet King.

“Hello, how are you?” While she spoke, Aglaia went into the kitchen.

“Ah, we’re fine,” Death told her. “And you?” He managed to block Andrew’s elbow just in time. “No, really.”

The Grace smirked at that… until her lover returned with a bottle of whisky in hand. “Really?”

“Oh, they’re going to need it if they’re here to see Despair.” She rolled her eyes in a rather exaggerated manner as she handed Andrew the bottle. “Does _that_ guy ever live up his Aspect or what.”

Andrew arched a thick eyebrow at the statement. “That bad?” he asked while raising the bottle to his lips once he undid the cap.

“Oh yes.” Aglaia heaved just as dramatic sigh as she wrapped her left arm around a disapproving Renee’s shoulders; they were both dressed ‘casual’ in jeans and sweaters, Thalia in loose-fitting garments and Aglaia in a more revealing outfit. “All this moaning and groaning and ‘I’m gonna die, we’re all gonna die’. No clue why he bothered to run away in the first place if he’s so certain that he’s gonna be dragged back in the end.”

Andrew had several swallows of the potent liquor before he lowered the bottle. “Well, let’s go see, shall we?” He didn’t bother to offer the whisky to Death, he just kept it in hand as they went off to the bedroom together.

Death remembered with some fondness a rather potent alcohol distilled in Persia many centuries ago and sweetened just a little with plums as he walked into the bedroom where Despair was staying, heavily warded against ill intentions and most Named Ones – none of which would block him and Andrew by extension. Janus was leaning near the doorway (rather fitting, all in all), and gave them a cool look at their entrance. “Behave yourselves,” he warned. “Especially _you_.” That was directed at Andrew for some reason.”

“Such little faith,” Andrew scoffed, his attention mostly focused on the supine figure in the bed whom Abby fussed over – Despair was no longer bleeding and in torn clothes, his bright green eyes (which he’d inherited from his mother) wide open as he stared back at them. He had black hair, similar to both parents, and skin a couple of shades lighter than Janus’ deep bronze, which made his eye color even more striking. There were hints in his face of the god – his jawline, his brows - but also of Andraste, enough that Death didn’t understand why no one had figured it out before his inadvertent ‘slip’.

There was a mark on Despair’s left cheek, what looked to be a small brand or something. Despair noticed his attention and rubbed at it. “Deception marked me one day, he wanted to show that I was lesser than him.” Upon closer inspection, the symbol was an archaic one to indicate ‘acolyte’ or ‘follower’, something to denote someone who gave acquiescence to another. Death didn’t sense any magic from it, so it was probably only meant to shame Despair and feed into Deception’s ego.

“And what about the others?” Andrew asked as he came to a stop at the foot of the bed. “How did you escape?”

“Andrew, that’s-“

“No,” Despair said as he shook his head and gave a slight flick of his fingers to dismiss his father’s concerns; at his side, Abby fussed with the blankets covering his legs and shot Andrew a pleading look before she stepped away. “It’s all right.” Despair sat up a little straighter on the bed, his left arm cradled on his lap; his hand was still wrapped in bandages and he was dressed in an old Laughing Fox t-shirt of Janus’, from the looks of it. “Whatever you did to Deception all those months ago when you saved Death… it broke something in him.” He gave a bitter laugh as his left arm twitched. “Broke his right arm and broke _him_ ,” he explained.  “As much as it’s rankled him to be denied Death, he always expected to get him eventually.” He gave Death a shy look from beneath his thick, black bangs.

“He never will,” Andrew stated through clenched teeth. “There’s so many reasons why he never will.”

Despair flinched a little from the barely restrained hate in Andrew’s voice. “I… I’m just saying what Deception and Destruction believe.”

Death felt sorry for the young (as fellow Named Ones went) man; he remembered glimmers of Abram’s thoughts, of living in terror of his father, of fearing his father’s anger and disappointment. He still remembered bits and pieces of lying on that stone floor as the agony grew overwhelming and his blood pooled beneath him, as he flinched more from the tremors of Destruction’s and Deception’s footsteps than the bite of sharp blades sinking into his flesh.

“It’s all right,” he assured Despair. “I… I know how they are.” There must have been something in his voice because Andrew’s hand was heavy and warm on the back of his neck and his lover’s wings were out, which caused Despair to draw in a surprised breath. “But you’re… well, you’re here now, with your father.”

That shook Despair from his thoughts and brought some color to his cheeks. “Ah, yeah.” He cast Death a sour look before giving Janus another of his shy ones. “I hadn’t… ah, well… yeah.” He toyed with his bangs again. “I-“

“Your escape,” Andrew reminded him while his wings rustled and sang of anger and freedom and vengeance. “And Deception. A bug-fuck crazy Deception.”

Despair frowned at him as his right hand dropped onto his cloth-covered lap. “You’re not like… are all Furies like him?” he asked Death, who scoffed a little as he thought of Megaera and Alecto, who were still uncertain about what to make of their new ‘sibling’.

“He is quite unique, fortunately.” Death sighed when the back of his collar was tugged upon. “Deception, if you will.”

“Yes.” Despair pinched the soft, cream-colored blanket covering his lap between his fingers as he hunched over a little more. “Uhm, so your fight with him left him with a permanently broken arm, did you know that?” he asked Andrew, who shrugged, his wings rustling louder in the small room.

“Not really, and it’s only fair, considering he got out of there alive.” His hand skimmed down Death’s spine to wrap around his right hip. “He tried to harm Neil and my mother.”

“Yes, well….” Despair frowned at nothing for a moment and shook his head. “It’s left him… it’s not good, his wound and him losing Temperance. He took it out on mortals, but….” He held up his left hand and stared at it, his expression blank. “Something occurred to me after he damaged my hand in a fit of rage, so I waited until Destruction was gone, along with most of his assistants, and when Deception fell into a rage again, I…,” he drew in a sharp breath and splayed his hand over his chest. “I let him strike me across the sigils. It hurt, but it broke them and I could finally slip _between_ , but Vasali followed.” He glanced at Janus before gazing down at his lap. “I thought… maybe it would be safe here.”

Andrew hugged Death closer while nodding to Abby. “Are they broken?”

She nodded back. “Yes, they are. It’s very slight and it’ll take months, just like it took for Neil and it’s taking for Jean, but they’ve begun to heal. I swear that to you upon the Three.”

It was quiet for about a minute after that, with Death content to settle next to Andrew’s warm, solid presence with King jumping up into his arms while Despair lay huddled on the bed, his Aspect a weak thing at the moment due to his injuries. Janus radiated protectiveness and a little unease, probably still trying to adjust to the fact that he had a son, while Abby fussed over Despair to help him calm down.

“So what, why did you want to talk?” Andrew asked as his hand tightened on Death’s hip. “Your old man could have told us that story.”

“But… _you’re_ the one who stood up to Deception!” Despair made to sit up more on the bed but Abby was quick to prevent him, with Janus hurrying over to assist her. “You hurt him! An… and you stopped him from taking Death, so even Destruction’s wary of you now!” he called out. “I want you to help me, too!”

The wings engulfing Death twitched at the plea before their feathers smoothed out, a loud chime filling the bedroom for a few seconds. “Why should I do such a thing? You don’t mean anything to me,” Andrew told the other Named One.

Despair was quiet for a moment while Janus muttered Andrew’s name, and then he let out a slow breath. “Because Deception and Destruction are coming for you and Death regardless, and they’re weaker without me,” he argued, his voice slowly growing steadier with each word. “Because it’ll enrage Deception even more, having lost me, and drive him further over the edge.”

Meaning that it would make Deception that much more likely to do something foolish enough to break a Rule and enable Andrew to gain proper vengeance – at least against _Riko_. There would always be a Deception, after all.

Death wouldn’t mind there being a new Deception, just as he wouldn’t mind there being a new Destruction. After all, he waited _somewhat_ patiently for the day when he could ‘end’ their current incarnations.

So he knew Andrew was considering the ‘offer’, based on more than just the agitated chiming from the wings and the flare of Aspect. “If I do bother to watch out for you, then there will be some simple rules you’ll have to follow.” His wings folded in on Death even more, to the point that King swatted at them. “I already have enough complications in my life, I don’t need another clueless immortal to babysit.”

Busy holding King, Death attempted to kick the churl in the leg, but Andrew tugged him off-balance while Abby stifled a faint laugh and Despair stuttered out that he’d listen to whatever Andrew told him to do.

“We’ll both watch out for you,” Janus insisted. “You’ve got more help here than just the rude runt.”

Despair ducked his head again. “I… thank you,” he said in a quiet voice.

“You need to get more rest, a lot has happened to you and it’s overwhelming. Rest some more and you’ll feel better,” Abby told him while Janus motioned for Death and Andrew to leave the room, which they did after Andrew willed away his wings.

They remained at the house long enough to contribute to the wards, Andrew and Janus bickering about various things the entire time, and then Death grasped Andrew’s hand to pull him _between_. When they stepped out onto a beach facing the Pacific Ocean with the crashing of waves in front of them and the faint thrum of cars behind them, his lover gave him an arch look but didn’t tug his hand free, though King went off to chase after the seagulls.

“You feel a sudden urge to get a suntan?” Andrew asked, even though the sky above was slightly overcast and their kind weren’t affected by such things.

“Ah, no.” Death frowned at the question before he sighed and stared out over the ocean, at the setting sun; perhaps Destiny was correct with his talk of threads, considering that this spot was – geographically speaking – rather close to where Death had found Andrew. The events had occurred millennia apart, but he’d lost one important person and gained another so close to each other….

“This is where I lost her,” he said as he motioned with his free hand to the beach. “This is where my mother died after that last fight with my father.” His frown deepened as he glanced around. “It’s changed over the years, there were more trees and… well, it was here.” He shuddered as one of the few clear memories he had of his time as ‘Abram’ came rushing back, of his mother facing off against his father despite being so much smaller, so much less… so much _less_ , her Aspect failing as the weight of broken Rules caught up to her at last. The tang of magic heavy in the air, magic and blood and desperation, while Abram used whatever abilities he had to stave off Lola and Romero.

Death drew in a shallow breath when Andrew’s wings enfolded him, their warm, heavy weight as welcome as always. “Thank you,” he murmured as he gazed into the beautiful almost gold of his lover’s eyes.

“So she died here, Courage,” Andrew said, his deep voice quiet but easily heard over the ocean’s rumble and the birds’ raucous caws.

“Yes.” Death closed his eyes and tilted his face into his lover’s calloused hand as it cupped his cheek. “We slipped _between_ to escape him, but we couldn’t go far – _she_ couldn’t, and so ended up here. The Aspect left her soon afterward and she died, and I’d just set fire to her body when my father and his people found me.” A bitter smile twisted his lips when he thought about it, about the awful grief and pain tearing through him, about his blood and hers soaking into the pristine sand and the flames eating away the darkness for a brief moment… only for his father to step forward and a new type of darkness to consume him. “She told me to run, to find my uncle and get help, to keep moving, but I never had a chance,” he whispered.

Andrew pulled him close then dry lips brushed across his forehead. “That’s not going to happen this time, I keep telling you that.”

“It’s not….” Death slid his arms around Andrew’s broad shoulders and struggled to find the right words. “I’m not worried about _me_.” His father and Deception had already carved into him and left their marks, had broken him down until all he could do was beg for death. To _become_ Death. “I don’t want to stand before another pyre, watching everything that matters to me turn to ash,” he admitted in a faint voice.

His eyes flew open when Andrew’s knuckles knocked his chin upward, and gazed into eyes blazing as bright as that pyre so many centuries ago. “It. Won’t. Happen. Why won’t you trust me?” There was a hint of hurt mixed in with the anger, which made the breath catch in Death’s throat to hear that rare admission, that tiny bit of openness.

“I do. _I do_ ,” he repeated when Andrew clicked his tongue. “It’s just… he’s _Destruction_. Destroying things is what he does, and I don’t want him to destroy _this_ ,” he tried to explain as he placed his hand over Andrew’s heart.

Andrew was quiet for a moment as his hand found its familiar spot on the back of Death’s neck. “And I’m _Vengeance_ , which is something that’s long overdue when it comes to the prick.” His fingers rubbed against Death’s scalp and made him shiver in pleasure. “I’m not going to let him take this away, to ever harm you again so _believe_ me.” Those fingers tightened in Death’s hair and urged him closer until their foreheads met.

“I do,” Death repeated for a third time, a promise and a charm. “I swore to go on until the end of the universe and beyond,” he admitted to the stubborn rapscallion who had caused such wonderful upheaval in his life, “but there’s… there’s no point unless you’re with me the entire time.” He didn’t know when Andrew had become so important to him, he just knew that Andrew _was_.

It was quiet again while Andrew’s wings curled even tighter around them, as a chiming melody of protection and vengeance and eternity rang out into the salt-laden air. “Well, someone has to look after an idiot like you,” Andrew murmured as he nuzzled Death’s jaw, then silenced his protests with a kiss as always (so unfair, but Death decided it wasn’t a battle worth fighting).

They stood wrapped in each other on the beach until King came trotting over dragging a rather large seagull, proud of her kill and willing to share with Death (and hoping that he’d help with all of the annoying feathers). Death agreed that it was a very fine catch and vanished the feathers away (which increased Andrew’s annoyance over the whole situation for some reason), and told his assistant that he was full at the moment, but thank you.

It was back home after that, where Sir was waiting for them and all too willing to help King with the seagull. Still, Death needed a couple of answers from her before she could enjoy her snack. “What did Bastet say?”

Sir pawed at a spread out wing, her attention mostly focused on the bird carcass. /She agreed to your terms./

That was good. “When?”

/She was sending out watchers before I left./ There was a hint of exasperation in angle of the black cat’s ears and the way she twitched her tail. /I did well?/

“Yes, enjoy your meal,” Death told her, and turned around to face a disgruntled lover. “Yes?”

Andrew gave him a flat look for a couple of seconds before going off to the kitchen, where he fetched a pint of ice cream. “And _why_ did Bastet agree to have her furry little minions watch over my family, hmm? It just occurred to me that you never told me what those ‘terms’ would be.”

Ah, that. Death internally winced as he followed his lover. “Uhm… I offered forgiveness for Isis?” He stood by the counter and watched while the red flared bright in his lover’s eyes at the same time that Andrew’s face became an impassive mask. “Yes, I see that you still hold a grudge against her.”

Andrew waited until he consumed about half of the disgustingly sweet dessert before he answered. “And why wouldn’t I? When the bitch offered up my mother for Riko to use against you and considered me sub-human? When she betrayed you?”

Yes, it was going just as well as Death had expected, he thought with a weary sigh.

“Perhaps I should have said a ‘limited’ amount of forgiveness?” he mused aloud. “I’m no longer banning her from my presence, which means she’s no longer shunned and exiled, but it doesn’t mean I’m forgiving or forgetting what she’s done, nor will anyone else.” He dared to approach his lover and gave him a slight smile. “She has to live with the fact that she’s angered the both of us, that we’ll never trust her again… but Bastet is a good friend and I’m doing this as much for her as I am to help watch over your family.”

Andrew didn’t say anything until all of the ice cream was gone, and then he reached out to tap the cold spoon against Death’s nose. “The bitch better stay far away from me, and if I see her near your or Bee? I’ll rip out her throat rather than give her a chance to hurt either of you again.”

“Understood,” Death said as he rubbed at his nose.

“Now come on, you owe me dinner,” Andrew stated as he threw the empty container in the trash bin.

Really? Death knew better than to complain (much), he merely gave a pointed look to the freezer even as he held out his hand, a feeling of contentment filling him when Andrew grasped it and took them _between_.

*******

“Aren’t they adorable?” Nicky cooed as he held up the kittens to show Erik, who grinned like the besotted fool he was. “What do you think? I’m leaning to Furry McFurrison for this one, or-“

Andrew walked away from his cousin, his shoulder blades twitching with the urge to unleash his wings and fly as quickly as possible to somewhere the pest wasn’t, somewhere _quiet_. Instead, he went to the kitchen, where a forlorn-looking Neil stood with a mug of tea held in his hands.

“They’re going,” he said, in reference to the kittens – Nicky was there to take home ‘his’ two and the ones that were being adopted by a couple of people at the Laughing Fox. “They’ll have new homes with people who’ll adore them so it’s a good thing.”

“I know.” Neil gave one more glance over to where Nicky and Erik were acting like morons – even more like morons – and shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “It’s just… it’s rather odd, to become so accustomed to things, I suppose.”

Andrew had to remember that a lot of this was new to Neil – staying in one place, having so many people in his life on a regular basis, and even dealing with the same stray cats all of the time. He’d been told to ‘stay’ and he was, had told Andrew that he wanted to spend their lives together, but it was an unusual thing for him, an immortal being who’d lived through so much already.

“I’ll bring you back a new blend of tea to cheer you up,” Andrew offered as he leaned in for a quick kiss, and felt a burst of heat in his chest when Neil’s smile strengthened. “Stay here and I’ll be back soon.”

“All right.”

Andrew left his lover and his home to take care of a few things while Nicky and Erik (more Erik) were there to keep an eye on things; his first stop was to check on Despair, who was still healing and rather grumpy about the fact. Next was a brief visit at Matt and Dan’s apartment, where he found Jean reading some rather thick tome.

“Abby’s?”

The Virtue shook his head. “No, something Thalia found for me, actually.” Jean gave him a level look for a couple of seconds. “I believe it’s something she was able to track down considering… well, considering what she used to be.”

Meaning it had to do with her being a Fury, interesting. “So? Why is it important?” Andrew asked as he leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

Jean gave a slight shrug, something he was rather good at, and resumed reading the book. He was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and worn blue jeans, so Andrew assumed that Jeremy wasn’t planning on visiting that day. “I… I believe it may be best if we have something of value to entice Thessaly to our cause.” He looked up at Andrew again. “Do you know anything about her?”

There were bits of information which had come with the Aspect, but Andrew didn’t know anything firsthand. “That she’s powerful and old and it seems that half of you guys are terrified of her and half of you aren’t bothered.”

“It depends on who we are, which half we fall on – you and Death have nothing to fear in that regard, especially Death.” He sounded a little envious of that fact, but then again, he had a charm bag created by the witch hanging around his neck. “Destruction has a powerful witch of his own tied to him, and while Abigail and Nicholas are quite strong in their own rights, they don’t have Lola’s centuries of experience or depths of malice. It may be that we could benefit from Thessaly’s help.”

Andrew considered that as well as the little Neil had told him about Lola. “What would Thessaly want?” There was the whole ‘magic costs’ thing, and it sounded like that would be quite ‘expensive’ indeed.

Jean hesitated before he tapped the book in front of him. “I believe… well, what most non-Named Ones want. Immortality.”

Witches weren’t Named Ones, they didn’t have Aspects but they did have access to power, to forces that extended their lives for centuries and even millennia. They had to be clever and careful and often ruthless to live that long, in order to navigate (or in some cases, outright ignore) the price and burden of casting, and all of it could come crashing down so easily considering that they were mortal at heart.

Unless they made a deal with Death.

Andrew’s wings itched to be released again yet he held them back; Jean was trying to be ‘helpful’ after all. “It’s an option,” was all he said before he stepped _between_.

It _was_ an option, and one that would have to be considered, unfortunately. Andrew had a better understanding of the Rules by then, but he wasn’t Death so he wasn’t sure just what it would cost his lover to arrange such a thing. After all, there was the one necromancer left undying in that mausoleum in Poland, so what was another soul left uncollected?

He blamed the fact that he was distracted by those thoughts as he approached the grocery store, intent on picking up some cigarettes and ice cream and tea, perhaps some scones as well, for missing the first faint brush of power which should have been a warning.

He didn’t miss the second, the aura of magic which preceded the tall being stepping out in front of him in the parking lot.

“Aren’t you a short little shit?” the ‘man’ said, a wide grin on his broad face – everything about him was broad, his face and chest and shoulders. He had to stand almost seven feet tall, with a glamour cast over him to hide the grey pallor of his skin, the green tint to his shaggy black hair, the oiliness in his black eyes.

The fact that he was a golem, perhaps? The runes for ‘earth’ and ‘life’ carved into his wide forehead?

“Let me guess, Patrick,” Andrew said as he took a step back. “Also, that statement was a bit repetitive.” Was the dumb pile of rocks really going to confront him out in public?

“Tiny but not stupid. Come here, chickie, time to snap your neck,” the golem taunted as he cracked his knuckles.

All right, it appeared that someone was spoiling for a fight, Andrew thought as he let his Aspect surge free, as his wings burst into existence and he bared his teeth. At least it had happened before he bought the ice cream.

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******  
> Uhm, that's it for now? Next week should be Raven's Partner ch18 unless something throws me off of track. Then back here to resolve that cliffhanger (oh COME ON, you think Andrew's going to let anything get in the way of his precious ice cream???).
> 
> And because people have asked - my tumblr ([nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com//) and [writing stuff](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/tagged/nekojitachanfics)) 
> 
> As always, thank you for any kudos and comments!  
> *******


	3. Death has had Better Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, another short (for me) chapter. Which is interesting because FB started out with chapters about this length. With luck, the chapters will start getting longer soon enough, but lately... eh... for some reason this is what I get done.
> 
> Still, one or two people show up here whom we haven't 'seen' before, and more talking Kevin!
> 
> Hmm, only possible triggers I think is a fight scene.
> 
> As always, much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

********

Andrew's Aspect flared as the golem approached, his wings bursting forth from his back and power raging; the mortals in the parking lot scurried away from him and Patrick, all of a sudden intent on reaching their cars or getting into the store, on going home or about their business for the day or being anywhere but _there_ all of a sudden. He couldn't 'freeze' time like Neil, but he could 'disappear' from the mortals' perceptions and drive them away.

It seemed that Patrick possessed some sort of glamour, at least enough to keep people from realizing that he was a walking hunk of dirt, but if it wasn't for Andrew's Aspect (of the rage and madness), then people would be standing around and watching him fight 'air'. Not an ideal thing, but better than him appearing to try to kill another guy possessing wings.

Or being killed by a guy possessing wings, because there was no way Andrew was going easy on one of Destruction's people, on someone who had hounded Neil and his mother, had _hurt_ Neil and caused him grief. For a moment that rage and madness grew overwhelming and wracked his body, made his wings shudder and claws bite into his own palms as a cry burst forth from his throat which gave Patrick pause, and then Andrew regained control of himself, of his Aspect, and bared his fangs at the golem.

"Feisty little chicken, aren't you? I'm gonna have fun ripping off those pretty wings," Patrick taunted as he cracked the knuckles of his huge hands.

"Come on and try," Andrew said as he slipped a knife into each fist. Someone was about to become a pile of pebbles.

Patrick hesitated for another moment, probably unused to opponents who didn't cower in fear at his threats, and then he was charging at Andrew, surprisingly fast for a chunk of dirt.

Andrew was faster, though, and those wings weren't ornamental. He leapt up and spun about, the knives flashing through the air in silver arcs, the wings singing of retribution and pain and death as the pinion feathers spread out (oh no, not ornamental at all), a blur of bronze to follow along the trajectory of Andrew's hands, of his weapons, and the scent of something earthy filled the air as an oil-like substance oozed from a myriad of striations along the golem's body.

Patrick hadn't even touched Andrew.

The golem staggered under the onslaught, a low groan of pain escaping him as he twisted around, his black eyes narrowed and thick lips pulled back to reveal rough, blocky teeth. “Gonna rip you apart, chicken!”

Andrew merely bared his fangs again and arched his wings high into the air before he slashed them downward to propel himself forward, that time lashing out with his knives. He twirled around, the wings as agile as a thought, one blade digging deep into the left side of the golem’s face, the other into his ribcage. What was an ear and a chunk of scalp fell onto the pavement, quickly disintegrating into dirt while Patrick bellowed in rage and pain.

“ _Who’s_ doing the ripping?” Andrew taunted as he hovered a foot or so in the air, his wings singing of death and madness and revenge, his blades dripping a tar-like ichor.

Patrick panted as he wiped at the same ichor coating the left side of his face. “You… you’re _nothing_. Jus’ a pawn of Junior’s. Jus’ a bogeyman.”

“I’m _Vengeance_ ,” Andrew reminded him as he held up his weapons in preparation of another attack. “And Destruction’s long overdue it for what he did to his own son and wife.” He cocked his head to the side. “He’s worried, isn’t he? About Neil and me? About there being a Vengeance all too willing to call him on his shit at long last?”

“Only thing gonna happen is Junior learning his place at las’ and a new Tisiphone soon enough,” Patrick declared, but it was lacking the bite of his previous statements. “Now come on, better things ta do.” He flicked the fat fingers of his right hand at Andrew as if to entice him forward.

Well, never let it be said that Andrew didn’t accommodate some people, no?

Mindful of rushing headlong into traps (like a certain _idiot_ ), Andrew crossed his arms in front of himself and, after the initial push of his wings, had them out to shield him as well, and just barely dodged what he was certain to be a crushing punch from the golem.

After all, Patrick _was_ a golem – was constructed of earth in all its power, and an extension of Destruction as well.

Andrew was _just_ one of the Erinyes, was _Vengeance_ and _Justice_.

The bastard lost his right arm in that pass.

His cry of pain shattered the windows of the grocery store and nearby cars, and cracked the asphalt of the parking lot. Just as Andrew touched down on the uneven surface, some bitch with bleached blonde hair and a complexion only a shade lighter than Nicky’s stepped out from _between_ to shoot him a virulent look, her bright red lips pursed in anger and dark eyes simmering with hatred as she latched on to a wailing Patrick and literally _yanked_ him back _between_ before Andrew could throw a knife at the pair.

Well, that was that, he supposed.

And, judging from the roar of sirens in the distance and ruckus of alarms emanating from the store and parking lot… he’d have to go somewhere else for his ice cream, dammit. He heaved a deep sigh before willing his wings away and finding a discarded scrap of paper to wipe clean his knives (he liked these jeans), then slipped _between_ himself to hit up his _second_ favorite store.

At least they had his chunky fudge dark chocolate ice cream, his cigarettes, salmon cat treats, cinnamon scones and some lavender earl grey tea blend he thought Neil might like, then returned home.

He’d just set the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter when Neil came down from the upper floor of their loft with King draped over his shoulder, his hair a mess and a pleased smile on his face. “That took a little longer than-“ The smile faded as he paused just out of Andrew’s reach. “ _Oh_.” Silver crept into his eyes and a chill filled the air while King meowed and slipped into his arms to be cradled against his chest. “ _Patrick_.”

So much for thinking that maybe he could wait a while to talk about what had happened. “How do you know?” Andrew asked as he stepped forward to bridge the space between them.

Neil shuddered at the question while King meowed again; he gave her a brief hug then set her down on the counter. “Because you reek of oil and fallow dirt.” For a moment it seemed as if Neil was a breath away from fleeing _between_ , and then he shifted enough for Andrew to touch him. “Are you… are you hurt?”

Andrew scoffed at that as he slipped his fingers through Neil’s unruly curls, as his right hand cupped the back of his idiot’s neck and his left rubbed gently through that spill of auburn hair. “I may have broken your father’s clay doll a little.”

“Oh.” The chill slowly faded away as the silver receded from Neil’s eyes. “Okay.” He reached out to rest his hand over Andrew’s heart. “I’m… I’m sor-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Andrew told him with a hint of heat. “It’s not your fault.”

Neil shook his head as much as he could with Andrew holding on like that. “But he came after you because of me.”

“He came after me because he’s empowered by a bastard.” Andrew gently forced his lover to look up at him. “I think… I _believe_ that I, as Vengeance, would be called down on your father for one reason or another. He’s not the kind of being to stop for anything.”

Neil’s expression softened at those words. “And I believe that you were meant to be Tisiphone, so there is a truth to that.” He sighed and shuffled forward, until Andrew let go with his left hand so Neil could rest his head against Andrew’s right shoulder. “There needs to be a Destruction, there needs to be something that breaks everything down so something new can take its place. A statue in place of a piece of marble. A painting in return for what used to be crustaceans and oils and skins.” He shivered a little as his arms slowly wrapped around Andrew, only to tighten when Andrew gave a slight nod. “But my father revels in the ‘breaking down’ part.”

“Then maybe it’s time for there to be a new Destruction,” Andrew said as he held his lover close.

“Maybe,” Neil breathed out against his neck.

They were quiet for a few seconds, at least until King batted at the bag of groceries, so Andrew pressed a kiss against his idiot’s temple and told him to brew some hot water before he went to fetch his ice cream. Neil did just that, and then went to see what King was meowing about and gave her some of the salmon treats before smiling at the scones and tea.

He brewed a pot of the new blend and had a scone with it, pleased with both, and rolled his eyes when Andrew ate the rest of the pastries after finishing his ice cream. “I _still_ think you missed out on being Gluttony,” he muttered into his mug of tea.

“I do just fine as a Fury,” Andrew said as he crumpled up the box that the scones had come in. “Speaking of Named Ones shit… I’m not all that happy about your father’s little surprise today, him siccing his dirt doll on me like that. Someone’s been watching us.” Someone knew their habits well enough to guess that Andrew would be at the grocery store at some point.

Neil seemed to think about that while he sipped his tea. “My father has a powerful witch in his employ, it may be that she’s cast a few spells to see where we regularly visit. That’s something she can do, if the places aren’t warded.”

“Bleached blonde, too much make-up?”

“Uhm… she always did have a thing for altering her appearance?” Neil said after thinking about it for a moment.

“Then it’s her.” Andrew leaned back with his elbows on the countertop of the bar. “I know I’ve already said this, but I don’t want you going anywhere alone that’s not warded.”

“Of course not, I’ve just wandered this world by myself for how many centuries.” Neil gave him an even look for several seconds before letting out a slow breath. “I can-“

“I just sliced up a golem who was damn certain that you’d be back under your father’s control,” Andrew tried to explain as he reached out to grab onto the silver key dangling from his idiot’s collar – the collar he’d created and given to Neil in order to _protect_ him. “So do me the favor of not handing yourself over to those pricks so easily this time, okay?” Neil glared at him for a couple of seconds before the tension left his body and he nodded once. “It’s not about me doubting you, but I don’t like the idea of Riko _and_ Destruction coming after you, all right?” he tried to explain. “So we’re going to be careful for a little while.”

“Okay.”

“You stick with other Named Ones while I’m out watching over Bee, okay?”

“Okay,” Neil repeated as he shuffled closer, a hint of displeasure in his being but for the most part, appearing to just want to be near Andrew.

“And we end this soon.” Andrew didn’t think Despair was lying about anything, but he had to wonder if the other Named One had been allowed to escape for a reason, to draw him and Neil into some sort of trap. If so, they would have to be careful and do whatever they could to reverse that trap; Andrew wanted to go back to how things had been lately, to leisurely discussions on top of buildings and meals around the world and… and not having to worry about his family.

To not having to worry so much about Neil.

Because there was no way that Andrew was going to allow anyone or thing take Neil from him.

*******

Death lay stretched out on the bed and watched Andrew sit up, his hair mussed and the muscles of his broad back flexing as he shifted his shoulders as if to chase away an ache. His lover noticed the attention when he reached for the long-sleeved shirt which had been discarded around the foot of the bed earlier and clicked his tongue. “Staring.”

“Yes,” Death acknowledged with a faint smile. “I enjoy watching you, you have a very attractive physique.”

“Is that what this is about? My body?” Andrew asked in that bland manner of his while he pulled on the shirt then leaned over to nuzzle Death’s right temple.

“Hmm, no.” Death hummed a little in delight and rolled onto his bare back, the comforter soft beneath him. “Though it’s a very nice body, I do like your shoulders and back and chest, how firm they feel beneath my hands and how… solid you are, the way you purse your lips when you’re thinking ‘idiot’ and the gleam of light in your eyes and hair. It’s all a part of _you_ ,” he tried to explain. “Somehow I just can’t help but look, as it produces this warm feeling in my chest when I do.”

Andrew scoffed at that, but Death was given a gentle kiss on the lips before his lover pulled away. “And when you look at Aaron?”

He grimaced and sat up. “I _can_ very easily look away. I always knew Desire was a capricious thing before I met you, but this just proves it, why it’s only _you_.”

“Poor idiot.” Andrew didn’t sound very sympathetic for some reason, which merely made Death sigh and search about for the hooded sweatshirt he’d been wearing before they’d spent some very pleasant time ‘making out’.

He’d just dressed and went to join his lover on the roof, where Andrew enjoyed his cigarettes, when Sir returned from her wanderings. /The loud god has a message for you,/ she informed him as she settled in his lap.

“Oh?” Death glanced at Andrew as he stroked along his assistant’s back.

/He would like for you to come to the place of snacks tomorrow, at ‘noon’, to help with his son./ She purred a little when he rubbed the top of her head.

“Anything else?” Andrew asked as he flicked ash into the air.

/No./

“Figures,” he muttered before he inhaled deeply from the cigarette.

“Perhaps he wishes to keep Despair close by and so is having him stay at the Laughing Fox while he works?” Death offered. “It is heavily warded.”

“I know, I renewed the wards last night because of Aaron and Nicky.” Andrew seemed to think about something before he flicked the cigarette away. “I suppose you can’t get into too much trouble there while I’m watching Bee, as long as you go straight there and come right back home.”

“Oh, you’re allowing me to do that much?” Death asked with a sharp smile.

“Neil.” Andrew reached over to tug on the hood of his sweatshirt, his voice soft yet grave. “We talked about this, right? I’m just trying to make sure that they can’t hurt you.”

“You’re the one Patrick tried to attack,” Death pointed out as he caught at Andrew’s hand and entwined their fingers together.

“And you’re the one with a blood tie to the old fuck.” When Death flinched at that, Andrew sighed and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “He can’t use it against you if he can’t reach you, okay? So… just give this a try for a while, can you?”

It was because Andrew asked, because he didn’t try to force Death with spells or wards or do any of the things that his father and Deception had done. Because he could feel the tension in his lover’s body and knew that it was there because of the concern Andrew felt for _him_. “For a while,” he promised.

He didn’t have to physically be there to do his job, not when he could ‘reach out’ to sense all of those deaths to ensure that things were working properly, but he disliked being away from things too long. At least he’d gone with Andrew on a ‘call’ yesterday, so he still dealt with a soul or two in person.

They stayed on the roof for a while longer, and then, perhaps as an appeasement of sorts, Andrew took him to visit Thalia and Aglaia in their new home. They found the Graces lounging in their garden, where Thalia was discussing what she was planting with a couple of hummingbirds.

“I don’t know why she bothers, they just dart off and forget everything,” Aglaia complained while waving about a flute of champagne.

Yes, Death found most birds too… ‘flighty’ of nature unless they were corvids or the larger birds of prey. “She’s always had an affinity for them.”

“Huh, must be a wing thing.” Aglaia narrowed her blue eyes at Andrew. “You got the urge to chat with a ball of feathers yet?”

“I put up enough with cats,” Andrew replied in a withering tone as he snatched at the bottle of champagne.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” the Grace said as she waved a new bottle of alcohol into existence. “Honey, stop playing in the dirt and pay attention to our guests.”

Thalia nodded to the flitting hummingbirds as she brushed off her hands then stood up. “Hello!” She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her rainbow tipped hair and a pair of pale blue overalls with a white cropped t-shirt beneath them, an interesting contrast to Aglaia’s shimmering bronze cocktail dress. “I’m hoping for some vegetables in a couple of months.”

The three of them just stared at her in silence.

She sighed as she removed the hat. “I’ll donate them to the local food banks.”

“Oh, okay.” That… seemed more realistic to Death. “I’m sure the mortals will be happy?”

“They’ll be well fed, at the least,” Aglaia remarked. “You know who’s _not_ happy? _Me_.” She jabbed a crimson-painted nail in Andrew’s direction, her expression highly displeased. “You’re interfering in my bet with Compassion! No breaking the damn golem until him and I get a crack at it, okay?”

Andrew sat down at the cast iron table, the bottle of champagne in his hands mostly empty by then. “Oh, right, I’ll just let him keep taking shots at me instead. _Not_.”

They spent over an hour there while Andrew and Aglaia bickered back and forth (and consumed several bottles of alcohol), Thalia and Death pursuing their own conversation about mortals and their methods of food cultivation over the centuries. It was an enjoyable visit.

The next day, Andrew went off in the morning to guard Betsy Dobson, leaving Death to spend some time alone with the cats, who caught him up on the happenings in the neighborhood and among the Named Ones. When it grew close to noon, he gave King one more scratch beneath her chin then stepped _between_ into Janus’ office. “Hello,” he said to the god and Despair, who were huddled around the god’s desk.

“Fuck!” Janus jerked upright while Despair went still. “What are- I thought Andrew was going to bring you!”

“No, he’s watching over his mother today. I’m not to go anywhere other than here,” Death explained. “At least, if I’m alone. He asked me not to wander off by myself.” He might still be a tiny bit bitter about that.

Despair gave him an incredulous look at that statement. “But you’re… you’re _Death_! Doesn’t he realize how powerful you are? He may be Tisiphone and a Fury, but you’re-“

“It’s called a ‘relationship’,” Janus explained before Death could say anything. “And relationships mean compromises.” Something akin to sorrow flashed across his weathered features. “Perhaps if I’d understood that fact better when I’d been with your mom – if we _both_ had, to be fair – things would have worked out better for the three of us.”

It was quiet in the office while Despair and Janus reflected on that, until Death cleared his throat at the uncomfortableness of the moment (he personally thought that ‘relationships’ meant that one dealt with their lover’s ‘quirks’ – such as the ability to ingest large amounts of sugar and blatant thievery – in return for unwavering trust and affection and wonderful sex). “Uhm, so you want me here to help with Despair?”

Janus motioned to his son, who was wearing a Laughing Fox t-shirt and black jeans. “You’re going to teach him how to make drinks. I figured if he’s here, he might as well be of some use.”

“All right.” Death frowned at that statement. “ _Can_ he be of any use?”

Despair glared at the… well, no, it was more than an insinuation, really. “I’ve been working on restraining my Aspect and Abby even gave me a charm to help with that.” He tugged on a silver chain hung around his neck, the charm or whatever possessing the spell still tucked beneath his black t-shirt. “And how hard can it be? It’s making drinks for mortals.”

Death gave a pained look Janus’ way, which made the god shake his head. “I put up with you and Compassion for how many weeks, and Andrew stealing desserts for a few of years – I won’t even get into how Aaron flips off the customers half the time. I figure you owe me this.”

Death attempted to stare down the defiant god for a couple of seconds before he sighed. “Perhaps I can have someone else make a sacrifice to the Fates for me?” he contemplated aloud. That might skirt around his lover’s ridiculous ‘no sacrifice’ rule, and he truly was growing weary of the Three’s disapproval.

“Good luck with that. All I know is that it’s time for you and ‘Kevin’ to get up front,” Janus told him.

“’Kevin’?” Death frowned at Despair once again. “Really?”

Despair frowned back. “Yes, ‘Kevin’. It’s a perfectly fine name.” Then he began to fuss with the apron that Janus just handed to him. “Uhm, it is, isn’t it?”

“It seems common enough among the mortals I’ve gathered over the last couple of centuries,” Death informed him. “It will do, if you don’t have a preference.”

“It’s just….” ‘Kevin’ gave Janus a quick glance before he ducked his head. “I don’t… whatever it was before I took on this Aspect is gone – your father… well, it’s gone,” he explained to Death. “So, uhm, it’s Kevin now.”

“It’ll be fine,” Janus said while reaching over to give him a tentative pat on the shoulder. “You’ll see, no one will think twice about it.”

Despair meant that Destruction had ‘destroyed’ his original name, most likely to prevent something from happening along the lines of what Death had done with Andrew – in Despair gifting that name to someone he trusted and so giving that person all of the power which the name held (and taking that power _away_ from Destruction and Deception). “Yes, it’ll be fine,” he assured his fellow Named One as they left the office.

Janus explained to Jocelyn and the rest of the staff that ‘Neil’ was back for a few days to help train their latest employee, ‘Kevin’, which earned them nervous looks from the mortals who had probably been more than happy when ‘Neil’ had quit last year. Still, Jocelyn mentioned that ‘Puck’ was adjusting to his new home and even managed to come close enough to show Death a picture of the grey and white kitten she’d adopted before Death began to teach Despair how to make some of the coffee drinks.

“So why do they like these things?” Despair asked as he stared at the espresso machine as if it was some sort of infernal device. “Is it an addiction?” He gave a dubious look at the coffee beans as well. “It’s not poisonous or anything, at least not unless consumed in mass quantities.”

“It’s a stimulant, a mild one,” Death explained. “And we can combine it with other flavors. There’s a social aspect to it as well.”

That didn’t make it any better, it seemed. “You mean all of those bottles of useless carbohydrates and artificial ingredients? Why would they want to consume them? They would be better off with opium and alcohol,” Despair said as he scanned the bottles of flavoring lined up on the counter. “Why do humans insist on putting such… such garbage into their bodies?”

“Uhm….” Death had often pondered that himself over the centuries and hadn’t a clue. Then again, he still was a little weak on the whole concept of ‘eating’ so perhaps he wasn’t the right one to ask. “It… tastes good?”

Judging from Despair’s glare just then, that wasn’t the right answer. “A ripe, crisp apple _tastes_ good. Tart strawberries _taste_ good. A pheasant-“

“ _Enough_ ,” Death told him, the fingers of his right hand pressed to his temple beneath his hood. “I get it.” Oh, wait until Andrew heard ‘Kevin’s’ opinion on his precious coffee drinks. “You still have to learn how to make it, though.”

Despair sniffed at that and took to tugging on the end strings of his apron. “It’s preposterous, giving such swill to patrons.”

“They’re paying for it,” Death reminded him – and reminded himself that he couldn’t pick up a bottle of caramel flavored syrup and smack the lubberwort over the head with it. “It’s what they want.”

“But-“

“ _Kevin_.” Death allowed a hint of his Aspect free. “Be quiet and watch me make these drinks.”

Despair was a quiet, sulky presence after that, at least for a short while; Nicky and Aaron soon arrived and were surprised to find both ‘Neil’ and ‘Kevin’ behind the counter. “Wow, this takes me back!” Nicky called out as he joined them. “Is Andrew working again, too?”

“No, he’s with your mother,” Death said as he handed the mocha frappuccino over to Despair to finish. Despite mocking the drinks, the other Named One did a good job of adding the whipped cream and cocoa powder before he put on the lid then carried it over to the waiting customer.

“No Andrew and no Matt, but hmm, you healed up nice!” Nicky grinned at Despair in such a manner that his cousin, Aaron, snorted in disgust. “So what do we call you, oh tall, dark and handsome?”

“Ah… Kevin.” It seemed that it took Despair a moment to remember his ‘human’ name. “I’m Kevin.”

“You’re not bad, is what you are, but I’m taken, unfortunately.” Nicky pouted as if heartbroken – then yelped when Aaron kicked him in the shin. “What?”

“I’m sure Erik wants to hear that,” Aaron grumbled as he pointed to the line of customers waiting by the register.

“Aw, he knows I’m true! True of heart and not blind of eye!” Nicky called out before sauntering away.

Now Despair appeared more confused than churlish. “Ah…is he… what was that about?”

“He’s a moron,” Aaron declared as he put on his own apron while jerking his chin to the screen displaying the drinks waiting to be made. “And what, you don’t have anything better to do than come here to play with us… us mostly humans?”

Despair flushed at that while Death went to work on the lattes. “I don’t want to just lie around and wait for-“ He glanced at Death then shook his head. “I’m not just going to lie around.”

“Whatever.” Aaron shrugged before he leaned against the counter a couple of feet away, for a moment appearing much like his brother in his all black outfit and the blank expression on his face. Much like Andrew, but not entirely, not when he didn’t _feel_ the same as Andrew, didn’t radiate that wonderful sense of heat and power, of protectiveness with a hint of barely controlled rage. Not when his shoulders weren’t quite as broad, his eyes lacked that spark of red.

Death could always tell the two twins apart, could always tell _his_ Andrew from Aaron.

Though Aaron could be just as much of a lazy bastard as his brother, it seemed.

Aaron stood there and made sarcastic comments as Despair fumbled his way through his first few drink orders, while Death once again pondered what he’d done to deserve the Fates’ ire.

He wondered if perhaps Wrath could make the sacrifice for him? They were blood, after all….

He twitched and nearly slid _between_ when Nicky sidled up to him. “So, was Andraste like, _hot_ or something?” the witch asked, his voice pitched low and attention focused on Despair who was arguing with Aaron over how three shots of vanilla syrup was ‘unnecessary’ and how mortals needed to appreciate the natural taste of things. “Because I look at Wymack and then I look at Kevin, and I’m just not seeing it. The hotness, I mean.”

“Uhm… yes?” Death hated being asked such things, since he really didn’t know what to say. “At least, her followers seemed enamored of her.”

Nicky gave him an odd look for a moment and then smiled. “I always forget that you don’t, you know,” he flapped his hand about in the air a couple of times, “and that Andrew’s _it_ for you. Which is why Erik’s all ‘he needs to slay a thousand ghouls and find the enchanted harp and blah blah blah.” He continued to smile even while he rolled his eyes. “I guess he wants to make sure that Andrew knows how special it is, you two being together, when according to him, you turned down a lot of important people.”

Death shook his head at that. “But I _didn’t_ turn anyone down.” There were no other offers, not that it made what he had with Andrew any less.

Nicky laughed at that. “Yeah, that’s what _you_ think.”

“No.” Death frowned at that statement. “At no point did any being come up to me and ask me ‘yes or no’ or insist that I buy them food or tell me that they wanted to have oral se-“ He took a hasty step back when Nicky waved his hands in front of Death’s face. “What?”

“Don’t _say_ that here! Oh hell, why couldn’t I have started this somewhere better, where I could hear about Andrew’s… quirks?” Nicky mumbled as he glanced over the counter at the mortal couple waiting for their drinks.

“Regardless, the fact of the matter is that I didn’t turn anyone down,” Death repeated.

“And I think I’ll leave this to Dan, since she got through to you in the first place.” Nicky sighed as he gave Death a sad look for some reason. “So hot yet so clueless.”

“I fail to see what one’s temperature has to do with their sexual inclination or physical attraction, unless one is cold-blooded.” Death considered that for a moment. “A Lamia or dragon, perhaps?”

Nicky sighed again. “Okay, now I remember why we were so happy when you quit.”

That… wasn’t very nice, was it? Especially when Death was merely commenting on something, so he tugged his hood further over his head and walked away from a flustered Nicky to return to Despair, who began another rant on how mortals really should eat (and drink) much better.

Aaron took one look at Death and then went over to his cousin, where the two huddled together and whispered for a minute or two before new customers arrived. Then Death was busy showing Despair how to make more drinks for a short while.

“Is this really what Jan- ah, my father does all day? Serve mortals these vile concoctions?” he asked Death as he was guided through a mocha milkshake (one of Andrew’s favorites).

“Yes and no,” Death attempted to explain. “The business was Reynaud’s, which your father… took over.” Death decided that Janus could be the one to tell Despair how, exactly. “He maintains it as a place where he can continue his aspect of giving people a second chance, of hiring young people in need and providing them safety and stability so they can have a new beginning.”

Despair was quiet while he finished the drink and handed it to the waiting customer. “He’s… he’s a good man. My mother mentioned him from time to time, and it was always to say something good about him, about how he was devoted to his followers and true to his aspect.”

“Did she tell you that he was your father?”

He shook his head. “No, it was something De- er, Riko taunted me with one day,” Despair said as he stared toward the back of the café, where Janus was working in his office.  “I thought it was a lie, as are most of the things out of his mouth, but your father confirmed it a few decades later.”

“They do enjoy taunting someone with whatever they believe will cause them the most pain,” Death admitted as he shivered, unsurprised that they’d revealed such a thing when they’d thought that Despair was hopelessly bound to them.

He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction at the thought that it had come back to haunt them. That Janus would do everything in his power to protect his son.

Then again, Destruction and Deception had never seemed to grasp the importance of family bonds, from what Death could tell.

They continued with Despair's training, the Named One downright twitching at the order with six shots of chocolate sauce and extra whipped cream (Death thought that Andrew had stopped by for a moment), with Janus coming out front to check on them occasionally. During a lull in customers, Death walked around the cafe and renewed the wards, laying his power over that of Andrew, Janus, Nicky, and his friends, who must have stopped by the Laughing Fox recently to refresh them.

There was no way that Destruction or Deception was entering the coffee shop.

Despair gave him a grateful look when he was finished but didn't say anything. Instead, he grimaced at the espresso machine and shook his head. "I just don't understand these concoctions. Is this something you came up with? You're rather good at making them."

"No, I had nothing to do with these." Why did Death get blamed for everything? "And they're not that difficult."

"I suppose." Despair glanced out at the people sitting around with their drinks and snacks and shook their head. "They seem happy to pollute their bodies, at the least."

"Yes, they do."

"Then again, they were also happy to smear lead and-" He stilled as a sense of power washed into the Laughing Fox, but it was only Charity, Temperance and Diligence - the last of whom Death hadn't seen in a while. She followed her fellow Virtues with a steady pace, her shoulders even and head held high, her black hair falling in thin braids down her back.

“Uhm.”

Death nodded at the Virtues. “They tend to come here often – Charity and Temperance, at least, along with Compassion and Courage.”

“Uhm,” Despair repeated, his attention fixed on the trio as they approached.

“Neil! How are things?” Charity called out, dressed in a bright red jersey with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and worn jeans, while Temperance wore a thin black sweater with black skinny jeans and a disapproving expression. Diligence was just as elegant in a form fitting black dress which showed off her long legs and impressive arms – she did favor broadswords, from what Death remembered.

“Uhm.” Despair seemed fixated on that word… and the three Virtues, especially Diligence. How odd.

“They are mostly well,” Death replied while he nodded to Temperance, while Nicky made a fuss over a wary Diligence. “Except for Andrew believing that I can’t protect myself and my father trying to kill him, and now the three of you showing up and somehow reducing Despair to a blithering idiot when I’m stuck training him.”

“Uhm… _what_?” Despair blinked a few times and then glared at him. “Huh?”

Temperance’s frown deepened while he nodded. “Yes, blithering idiot, I can see it. My condolences.” On the other side of the counter, Aaron snorted in amusement while Charity winced and Diligence arched an eyebrow.

“I’m not a blithering idiot! I’m just….” Despair glanced at Diligence and took to fussing with his apron again. “Uhm-“

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that,” Death pointed out in an effort to be helpful.

“Don’t you have souls to collect?” Despair hissed at him. “Or _something_?”

Death narrowed his eyes at the gnashgab and just barely restrained his Aspect. “I seem to be doing my job right here, considering how your dignity just expired.”

“Ooh, direct hit for Neil!” Nicky cheered while Despair gaped at him.

“That-“

“I’d like something to drink before the fighting starts,” Temperance called out. “Such as it’ll be.”

“Ah, come on now, we’re all friends here, right? Wymack doesn’t like it when we fight!” Charity reminded everyone. “And we’re Na- ah, we’re work buddies!” He gave a nervous chuckle at his almost slip; there weren’t any mortals by the counter just then, probably because of all the ‘Named Ones’ even if they were stifling their Aspects, but there were still a few in the café and they needed to be careful of what was said.

Or so Death had been told time and time again.

After glancing back and forth, Diligence leaned against the counter and motioned to Aaron. “How much are they paying you to work here?”

“Not enough,” Aaron replied, his expression one of long-suffering.

She smiled at that, a slight curve of her gloss-covered lips, and something in the demi-god relaxed. “It’ll be worth it in the end, you’ll see. Now how about an Americano, hmm?”

“Oh-okay.” Aaron blinked a couple of times then went to make the drink for her – or at least tried, but Despair all of a sudden was _willing_ to do his job.

“Ah, am I missing something?” Nicky asked when he came over after taking Temperance’s and Charity’s orders as well.

“Out of all the Virtues, he falls under Diligence the most,” Death replied in a quiet voice; Andrew’s twin might be lacking in restraint and compassion at times, nor was he as courageous as his brother, but Aaron was indeed diligent. He’d pushed himself to overcome so much in the last several months, could devote himself whole-heartedly to something which mattered to him.

In that he shared a similarity with his brother.

Despair won the ‘battle’ over Diligence’s drink and carried it over to her, a slight flush on his cheeks as he set it on the counter. She regarded him with a coolness in stark contrast to his evident nervousness, then gave him a hint of a pleased smile. “So you’re working here, too?”

“Yes,” he managed to say with only a hint of a stutter.

“Hmm, promising.” She didn’t elaborate on that, just flicked back a couple of those thin braids before she picked up the coffee and walked away, while Despair stared after her the entire time.

“It’s impolite to drool,” Temperance remarked, his tone a shade snide but Death caught the twitch of his lips while he spoke.

“Eh, what?” Despair was back to glaring, especially when he caught Nicky smothering a laugh. “Why are you here?”

“It’s a coffee date!” Charity said in a rush, which made Nicky appear hopeful for some reason. “Ah, in that we’re here for coffee and today has a date and… uhm… I better go talk to Thea,” he mumbled as he grabbed his latte and hurried away.

“Dan needs to smack _him_ upside the head or something,” Nicky muttered as he folded his arms over his chest, then he glared at a blank-faced Temperance. “And you, too. I mean, _come on_ , already! You’re worse than Neil!”

Death had to say, Temperance could manage a rather impressive scowl with those pale grey eyes and thick black eyebrows. “I don’t understand what you’re implying, witch.”

Nicky’s sigh was quite loud and dramatic. “No, of _course_ you don’t.” He added foot-tapping to the whole… well, whatever he was doing right then. “I’m beginning to think you’re Torture, not Temperance.”

“There isn’t a Torture,” Death and Temperance said at the same time.

Nicky did another of the exaggerated sighs while he threw his hands up in the air. “We need to start serving alcohol!” he declared before he stomped away, over to where Charity and Diligence were sitting. For some reason, Despair trailed after him.

“That would be nice,” Aaron commented between bites of one of the chocolate and peanut butter granola bars from the display case. “Certainly would make dealing with all of this shit more bearable.”

“I miss the days spent arguing with the recently deceased that miasma or sins didn’t cause a person’s death, but blood poisoning or being bled out did,” Death mused aloud. “ _So_ much better than this.”

Temperance gave him a confused look. “But I thought that you hated the Middle Ages.”

“ _Exactly_.”

Meanwhile, Aaron was regarding him with something other than disdain or surliness for once. “Hey, that’s right, you lived through that stuff. You _know_ that stuff. And I have a paper due soon on medical techniques throughout the ages.”

That sounded as if the demi-god wanted Death’s assistance with something, to which Death’s first impulse was to say ‘no’. However… he supposed that Andrew would appreciate him making some sort of effort with his family.

He truly _was_ missing the Middle Ages, the awful stench and the _knights_ and the disgruntled souls aside.

“Yes.” Now it was Death’s turn to sigh.

“Great, your unfiltered shit can finally be of use,” Aaron declared before he walked away while finishing the granola bar.

Death watched him go and reflected on how it technically wasn’t any violation of the Rules to end the lives of all the mortals (and not quite so mortals) gathered in the coffee shop at the moment.

“Uhm… ‘Neil’? Your Aspect.”

“Oh?” Death shivered a little as Temperance’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts and made him realize that he’d lost control of his Aspect the slightest bit. “My apologies.”

Temperance picked up his green tea and took a quick sip. “I hope it was a pleasant diversion.”

“No, just reminding myself about how certain lovers seem rather irrational about you ending the lives of their family members too soon,” Death confessed, which made Temperance choke on his tea. “Now, is there a reason why you came here today?”

Temperance hesitated while he stared into his mug, then switched to French. “ _I’m not sure Andrew would approve of this, but I wanted to let you know that I’m looking into approaching Thessaly to see if she’ll help with your father_.”

“ _I… all right, tell me what you want from me_ ,” Death said, since the only thing he could figure out was that if Andrew wasn’t going to be pleased and Temperance was here, that he was involved somehow.

“ _It’s clear that she’ll offer up her aid in return for a favor_.” The Virtue lifted his free hand to his chest, where the charm bag hung beneath his shirt. “ _But something like this will cost_.”

“ _Of course_.” When Temperance stared at him while sipping his drink, Death sighed. “ _And I’m to pay it_?”

“ _I think she’ll help us if you agree to either extend her life or… look the other way in regards to her_?” Temperance offered with a nervous smile.

Death was quiet for a moment before he shrugged. “ _Something to consider, I suppose_.”

Temperance relaxed at that. “ _Yes, it is_.” He gave a slight nod before he walked away.

Something to consider indeed; as long as it didn’t affect the grand scale of things, it was within Death’s power, what Temperance proposed. It just wasn’t something he usually did, considering that an exception here and an exception there could quickly build up over the millennia.

It was in part why he preferred to hold himself apart from everything, so he wasn’t tempted to _meddle_ , to involve himself in things.

Yet he’d tied himself to Andrew (Destiny’s talk of strings came to mind), and now he didn’t seem to have much of a choice, did he? If he tried to step aside, to leave, he had the impression that a disgruntled Fury might have something to say about that decision.

So he ignored the curious look Aaron gave him as he leaned against the counter, the hood pulled low over his face as he thought about his lover and ancient witches and his debt to Destiny, about the home he’d found at last and how he refused to give it up despite his father.

If he noticed the figure dressed in black and red standing across the street staring at the Laughing Fox, a figure which the mortals avoided, he chose to ignore it, too.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never get between Andrew and his ice cream. NEVER.
> 
> Poor Kevin/Despair. WHY DO MORTALS INGEST SUCH CRAP? Some things never change, no matter what universe. (and then Wymack takes him to a bar to hang out with Bacchus later that night, and it's all 'what carbohydrates'???)
> 
> Oh, I did get some prompts up this week! It was a weird week for writing, was just all BLAH but I did get some short stuff posted on my tumblr:  
> [nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com) and [writing stuff](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/tagged/nekojitachanfics)
> 
> Next week SHOULD be another chapter of Raven's Partner. I also should be getting a new laptop (this one keeps crashing on me, which makes writing stuff a wee bit difficult), so hopefully setting stuff up won't put me behind on things. Or it'll be another BLAH week.
> 
> As always, thanks for the kudos and comments!


	4. Death Comes to a Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> And another new chapter! Hmm, someone returns, might not be such a good thing. Announcement below. Uhm... I don't know what else to say right now? It's another 'short' chapter, this week was distracting and headachy but still think there's some fun Neil moments in the fic.
> 
> As always, thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Andrew walked into the Laughing Fox expecting to find Neil sitting in the corner sipping a cup of tea and perhaps talking to one of the cats, not behind the counter with the hood of his black t-shirt pulled so far over his forehead that only the lower part of his face could be seen. Judging from the stiffness in his posture and the literal chill in the air, Andrew suspected that his lover wasn't happy at the moment.

It might have something to do with the way that Despair, who was also behind the counter and wearing a Laughing Fox t-shirt, glared at Neil while waving his arms about in the air. "But that's ridiculous!" the Named One declared.

Neil twitched but otherwise didn't move. "It doesn't change the facts."

"But they have to know it's bad for them! All those carcinogens!"

"Since when have hu... their kind cared about being sensible?"

While his lover seemed to be explaining something to an incredulous Despair, Andrew went up to the counter where an exhausted Nicky and bemused Aaron were standing. "How long have they been like that?"

"Too long," Nicky whined. "I wanna go home."

"Neil's explaining fast food to 'Kevin'," Aaron explained. "This is better than any sitcom."

"Huh." Great, another idiot, Andrew mused as he looked back at the two. "I'll take the usual."

"Oookay." For some reason Nicky winced as he punched it in, while Aaron appeared amused... and about three seconds later Despair let out what could only be described as a loud squawk.

" _Really_? This is utterly preposterous! It's half sugar!" He whirled around to glare at Andrew, his expression faltering for a moment while Neil gave Andrew a slight wave which was little more than the wiggle of the tips of his fingers. "Well, at least _you_ can handle it, but still! _Sugar_!"

"Sugar's good, it's one of the four food groups," Andrew insisted.

Despair - or 'Kevin', Andrew supposed - appeared confused by that. "Food gro- you're not supposed to consume it in large quantities!"

"Says who?" Andrew asked while Neil started on his large mocha with extra shots of expresso and chocolate, and a brownie on the side.

“It’s a processed food! It’s not natural!” Kevin blinked a little and shook his head. “Well, I mean the processed kind, the bad kind.” He resumed glaring when Neil appeared with Andrew’s order. “ _That_ kind!”

“Janus won’t let me end his life,” Neil complained in a quiet voice as he handed over the mocha. “I greatly regret saying anything about them being related.”

“That’ll teach you to think before you speak,” Andrew told his lover, but he knew it wasn’t as simple as that when it came to Neil and his lack of a filter.

“That’s not funny,” Kevin complained. “I’m merely pointing out that everyone would function much better if they didn’t poison themselves.”

Andrew paused in taking a drink to give Neil a bland look. “He’s definitely Despair if he’s trying to take sugar away from everyone.”

“Not funny,” Kevin gritted out while there was a flicker of a smile on Neil’s lips at the comment.

“Does Wymack know that you’re trying to shut down his business? Because his customers aren’t going to be happy if you take away their sugar rush.”

“And caffeine,” Neil murmured. “He has a few issues with that, too.”

“These people are little more than low-level addicts staving off recurrent episodes of symptomatic hypoglycemia that they inflict upon themselves with these horrible diets,” Kevin muttered with his arms folded across his chest, a picture of perfect indignation, while near the counter Aaron looked on with interest and pulled out his phone to type something on it. “It’s pathetic, and you’re just encouraging them.”

Andrew had a sip of his drink before he turned to Neil. “You _sure_ Wymack won’t let you kill him?”

“ _Yes_.” Neil tugged on his bangs while silver flared in his eyes. “He’s rather odd for a father.”

“Because most fathers don’t want their sons to be killed!” Kevin gritted out, only to glance aside all flustered when Neil gazed at him with those silver eyes. “All right, he _is_ a bit odd for a god, but that’s why my mom liked him!”

“This has to be the latest punishment that the Fates are inflicting upon me,” Neil complained while he grasped at the key dangling from his neck. “I don’t see why I can’t-“

“ _No. Sacrifices_ ,” Andrew repeated yet again as he reached over to yank on the idiot’s hood. “Do I have to tattoo that on your damn hand or something?”

Neil gave him a confused look. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you- shut up, we’re going home now,” Andrew told him rather than explain for the hundredth time that sacrifices were _bad_.

“Okay.” Neil appeared happy about that at least and hurried to join Andrew on the other side of the counter. “Did you have a good day?”

“It was boring,” he admitted. “Bee made me sit out in the waiting room when she was seeing patients because of the whole confidentiality thing. I need to take a book or two with me tomorrow.” He nodded to Nicky and Aaron as they left the coffee shop since Erik would be by soon to see them safely home. “Wymack put you to work? Really?”

Neil sighed as they stepped outside and headed for the side alley, which they used to step _between_ without anyone seeing them. “I suppose he wants Despair to acclimate to the mortal world and thought that working would help, but it’s been… a tiring day.” There was a rare note of exhaustion in his voice, more of the mental kind than physical.

“Poor little idiot,” Andrew chided as they headed toward the kitchen, where Neil grabbed the hot water kettle. “Now you know how I felt last year.”

“I don’t understand that statement, considering _I_ had to put up with your larceny and laziness,” Neil said, an adorable pout on his face as he set about making himself some tea while Andrew finished his mocha. “Perhaps my bad luck is centered on the Laughing Fox?” He seemed to think about that for a moment once the kettle was filled. “I didn’t think that Reynard had anything against me, though.”

Andrew recognized what those red brows drawing together and lips pursing meant and picked up the spoon that Neil was going to use to measure out the tea to whap his idiot on the forehead. “Bad idiot,” he said over Neil’s yelp. “Stop thinking of sacrifices, dammit.”

“But he’d probably only want some wine and-“

“ _NO_!”

The fool was _Death_ , he didn’t need to placate some god in the first place, and second, _no_.

Yet… “Why do you always insist on sacrifices?” Andrew asked as he went to fetch a pint of ice cream.

For a moment Neil went still like he always did when he was confused or uncertain, and Andrew supposed that was justified, considering how often he yelled at his lover whenever the ‘s’ word was brought up. Then Neil gave him one of those shy, sad smiles which always made something inside of Andrew twist about before he seemed to concentrate on fixing a pot of tea. “Because… because for so long that’s how things were done, you see. Beings of power were worshipped and given gifts, were strengthened by the sacrifices mortals and others made to them… and then that slowly fell away.” His eyes once more became silver pools of stars as he stared off at nothing (at least nothing Andrew could see) and stilled once more. “There aren’t that many sacrifices these days, so I do what I can.”

Andrew thought about that while he had a mouthful of triple chocolate crunch. “You don’t need any sacrifices, though.” Neither did Andrew.

“No, I _exist_.” Neil looked up, his teeth once more biting into his bottom lip as he tugged on the key. “But it’s not so simple for some of them.”

For gods like Wymack, who needed people to believe in him, even if it was in stupid things like calendars and a two-faced statue which represented a new year and second chances. “So what, you’re part of some sort of mythological support group?”

Neil sighed as he shook his head. “Faith is not a bad thing, Andrew.”

“Says you.” Andrew had another bite of ice cream then put it aside so he could grab a handful of Neil’s shirt. “I don’t put my faith in gods,” he said before Neil could complain. “I put it in people I trust, and I don’t bother with stupid sacrifices.” At least, nothing along the lines of poor goats or chickens, though there were days he wondered about his sanity.

Neil gazed at him for a moment or two before he smiled. “Always so contrary.”

“Of course.” Andrew pulled him down for a kiss, one deep yet brief, then went back to his ice cream while Neil poured the hot water into the waiting tea pot. “Wymack expecting you back tomorrow?”

The slight smile on Neil’s face flattened out. “Yes,” he sighed. “I don’t understand how it can be such a huge debt, what’s owed to him, that I have to put up with training Despair for the foreseeable future.” He sounded put-out by the whole thing.

Andrew thought that the old bastard might be taking advantage of Neil a little considering that he and Matt had worked there for free all those weeks, but if he was at the Laughing Fox then he shouldn’t be in any trouble.

_Shouldn’t_.

“So what did you all do today besides not kill Kevin?” Andrew asked after he finished the ice cream; at that point they had gone to the couch to sit down together, and Sir had appeared to lay in Neil’s lap.

“Ah, there were several debates on the illogical habits of mortals, I may have agreed to assist your brother in his studies, and Temperance stopped by with Charity and Diligence.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that last part (though he would also talk to Aaron at one point to see what his brother wanted with Neil and was civil for once if he was expecting any sort of favor). “Diligence?”

“Yes, apparently she’s in town visiting Charity and Courage,” Neil explained. “I haven’t seen her in…,” he cocked his head to the side, the mug held below his chin as he thought about something, “ah, over a century at least? When were women marching for the right to vote in England?”

“About a century ago,” Andrew said. “She actually carried around signs and handed out pamphlets?”

“She smacked a very boorish mortal man over the head with one of the signs, breaking it and him,” Neil informed him in a quiet manner, his eyes silver pools and manner distant as if he was remembering the event. “He believed she and her companions were being ‘uppity’ and tried dragging his wife back home, so Diligence stepped in to protect the woman and….” Neil gave a slight shrug and sipped his tea. “She tends to forget how strong she is, especially since mortals stopped wearing armor and all.”

All right, Andrew might like this Diligence; it wasn’t a given with all of the Virtues. “I can see why she’s friends with Dan, but not so much Jeremy.”

“He’s serious about watching over his fellow Virtues,” Neil said, the same thing as always.

Too bad there hadn’t been more people interested in watching over Neil, other than Wrath and Dan and Matt (not that those three had done a very good job of it). Perhaps Neil wouldn’t be so confused by things and afraid of losing everything of worth if he’d had more support over the years.

But he was Death, and Andrew had learned that most of the Named Ones and beings associated with their world assumed that someone as powerful as _Death_ could either watch out for himself (what a joke) or was too terrible to approach.

Or was someone to use, which brought him back to something he wanted to know. “Did Jean have any other reason to stop by other than to bring Diligence by for you two to catch up on old times?”

Neil gazed at him from over the rim of the mug (which had cats painted on it, of course) for a few seconds before he lowered it and set it aside. “He talked to me about Thessaly.”

Nice to see that someone wasn’t trying to hide things from him (at least, not once confronted about it). Though it wasn’t a surprise that Neil wasn’t exactly a font of information when he did deign to speak. “And what _exactly_ did you talk about?” Andrew asked as he reached out to pull his lover onto his lap, which made Sir stalk away with a disgruntled cast to her ears.

“That Despair was a moron and that Thessaly can probably be bought for an additional millennium or two added to her lifespan.” Neil frowned as he draped his arms over Andrew’s shoulders. “I might be able to barter for some stronger wards, though she does know an impressive spell which renders one in an eternal nightmare. She gained the knowledge for that one back when she was Dream’s lover.”

“Or we could just rip their heads off. I’m good with ripping their heads off,” Andrew declared as his arms wrapped around his idiot’s waist. “No need for spells, then.” Or certain idiots going into debt for spells.

Neil’s brows drew together as he thought about that. “But they’ll try to rip _your_ head off while you’re trying to rip theirs off. Much easier to use magic against them.”

“Someone’s underestimating me,” Andrew said as he let his claws manifest then lightly dragged them along Neil’s back. “I’m not losing my head to them.”

“You better not.” Neil shivered a little while he spoke. “I’ll be very upset if you do.”

“I imagine that I won’t be that pleased, either.” Andrew’s palms spread out along his lover’s shoulder blades as he looked up at Neil’s gorgeous face, into those eyes which slowly became miniature universes full of swirling stars. “They won’t touch me or you.”

“They certainly won’t harm your ego,” Neil muttered before he leaned in for a kiss, which Andrew was only too happy to grant since it put an end to the smart comments for a short while.

They’d just stretched out on the couch, Neil beneath Andrew with Andrew’s hands beneath Neil’s t-shirt as he debated them moving up into the loft area, when there was a familiar wash of power which preceded a loud voice and banging on their front door. “Kiddo! I know you’re in there, let me in!”

Did Wrath have some sort of sixth sense for when they were making out or something?

Neil groaned as if in pain and rubbed at his face while Andrew contemplated a small bit of maiming (Neil couldn’t complain about a removed limb or two if they grew back, could he?), then Neil began to shimmer. “No, you’re not leaving me to deal with him,” Andrew snapped as he sat back and pulled a certain idiot up with him.

“I was going to greet him,” Neil argued with a slight glower. “Honest.”

“Right, now you can greet him with me.” Andrew kept tugging on Neil’s shirt until they were off the couch then let go so he could make ‘things’ more comfortable in his jeans before he stomped off for the door. “What?” he demanded after he threw it open to reveal a disheveled and glaring Wrath.

“About fuckin’ time,” the Vice complained as he shouldered past Andrew, intent on Neil, it appeared. He ignored the way that his nephew flinched, just a little, at being grabbed by the shoulders and eyed up and down, and only the slight shake of Neil’s head kept Andrew from going through with ripping off the bastard’s arms. “You all right?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said while Andrew gritted his teeth upon hearing those words. “What’s wrong?”

“What isn’t? Where’s the damn whiskey?” He let go of Neil so he could stomp off toward the kitchen, and Neil paused in following to give Andrew a slight smile and a light touch to the center of his chest.

“I hear the runt did some good for once and dinged up the prick’s ball of mud,” Wrath said once he had the bottle of whiskey in hand. “Of course, if he really was of any use, he would have reduced it to sludge and been done with it.”

Before Andrew could say anything, the air took on a heavy chill while Neil gave his uncle an equally cold look with star-filled eyes. “You haven’t defeated Patrick yet, either.” When Wrath was the first to look away, Neil’s Aspect ‘settled’. “Besides, Lola interfered before he could kill the golem.”

“The witch.” Wrath’s voice was thick with loathing. “The bitch is good for that, along with backstabbing and dirty tricks.” His face twisted with hate before he drank straight from the bottle while Neil shivered, that time as if from remembering something unpleasant.

Andrew gave Wrath a cold look as he wrapped his arms around Neil’s waist, his chest pressed against his lover’s back and chin tucked on Neil’s left shoulder. “So go play with her and leave us alone.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Wrath glared at him as he set the now half-empty bottle aside. “I heard she’s in the neighborhood, along with the hunk of dirt and the bitch’s brother.” Red flared in his eyes for a moment while Neil shivered again. “I came both to warn you and in hopes of crossing at least one of their paths.”

“You’re not going to find them in here,” Andrew argued.

Wrath pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. “Really, kiddo? You won’t consider Morri-“

“Thank you,” Neil said in a rush as he draped his hands over Andrew’s and gave them a gentle squeeze. “But we’re fine, as you can see. Perhaps if you wander around the less reputable sections of the city you’ll come across Lola and Romero. Lola always did have a thing for slumming,” he said with a slight bite to his voice.

Andrew was willing to bet that his idiot didn’t care for a certain witch.

“Heh, that’s a polite way to say that she’s a fucking whore, yeah?” Wrath grinned as he picked up the bottle of whiskey; Andrew would complain, but not if the bastard was taking it with him as he left.

“She’s a filthy hedge-creeper,” Neil spat with an unusual amount of venom – well, unless he was talking about Riko.

“True.” Wrath came over as if to hug Neil again, but when Andrew refused to back away from his lover, sighed and tousled Neil’s hair instead. “Seriously, the two of us have to go out one day and have a nice long talk. _Alone_.” He gave a pointed look at Andrew before he smiled at Neil. “Until then, stay safe, okay?”

“I will.” Neil nodded then leaned back against Andrew. “Take care of yourself.”

“Always do.” Wrath nodded once before he stepped back and then _between_ , leaving them alone at last.

They remained in the kitchen for a few seconds, and then Neil tugged on Andrew’s arms before he led them _between_ , too, up to a roof of some tall building in what looked to be London. Andrew took in the darkening sky and the Thames off in the distance, Big Ben and the Tower of London not too far away, the contrast of old and new and the faint thrum of magic mixed in with pollution and the meaty scent of humanity.

For a moment something dark and rabid pulsed inside of Andrew, pushed at him to unleash his wings and claws and fangs, urged him to the edge of the roof as he gazed down at the throngs of mortals scurrying about below, all of them so tainted with lies and sins and cruelties against each other staining their hands and souls, so much injustice to set right, so much pain to undo and deaths to avenge… and then he took a deep breath to help push it back deep down.

He was a Fury, an Erinyes, and yes, he was Vengeance and Justice. Yet he wasn’t indiscriminate, he didn’t just ‘rain down’ from the heavens even if humanity could use a good smiting now and then.

Hell, they could use a good smiting on a daily basis.

He really hated the Rules and was beginning to see why Neil fretted about them so damn much. They were annoying and stupid and fettering… and among other things, probably one of the few reasons why humans hadn’t been wiped from existence as of yet.

Because if Andrew could leap down from the building and smite away to his heart’s content, could clean out London of liars and murderers in a day’s time… Neil could make the metropolis a ghost town (literally) with a thought.

“Any particular reason you chose here?” he asked once his Aspect had settled and he lit a cigarette, aware that his lover was a little too quiet as he stared off in the distance with eyes a mix of blue and silver.

Neil remained quiet for a couple of seconds before he inhaled, the motion sharp and deep as if he hadn’t breathed in too long. “I… I remember when this was just a river and grassland, when the structures around it were of wood and semi-permanent.” He glanced around as if surprised by all the metal and stone structures. “I remember the Fae and then various tribes and the Romans, the first time they lay stone on the ground and the first time it was razed.” He tugged at his bangs as if by covering his eyes with his hair would make the sight before him go away.

“Over all the years, it’s been much the same – mortals come and they build, and it would be torn down and destroyed. But the city still remains.”

Andrew thought he understood what Neil might be trying to say. “Your father never wins in the end. London comes back stronger and better each time.”

At last there was a faint smile on Neil’s face as the silver faded from his eyes, as he turned toward Andrew. “I don’t know about ‘better’, not when there’s all these ridiculous metal and glass shapes everywhere and I miss the Fae. What’s the point in going up and down in a circle, anyway?” He gestured off to the huge Ferris wheel in the distance.

“Doesn’t make sense to me,” Andrew admitted while he blew out a lungful of smoke. Then again, he’d been afraid of heights before he’d become a Fury.

“No,” Neil agreed as he reached out to pluck free the cigarette dangling from Andrew’s lips; he regarded it for a moment before he sent it sailing through the air. “There could be more trees and less large round metal things.”

“Maybe one day.” Andrew shuffled closer as his wings folded around his lover. “You keep throwing lit objects around like that, it might help with the burning things down to the ground, though.”

Neil blinked at him, his expression much too innocent to believe. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Amusing.” Andrew used his wings to herd his idiot closer, with Neil smiling all the while and his hands sliding along Andrew’s shoulders as they fit together to kiss.

A slight moan slipped from Neil as Andrew’s wings tightened around him, as Andrew’s fingers clenched in his hair and tongue flicked into his mouth. An emotion as powerful as the madness flared inside of Andrew, one as potent and turbulent, one which had him tugging at Neil’s shirt until he willed it away, followed by the rest of his clothes. Andrew’s soon vanished as well, leaving him to feel the coolness of Neil’s body against the heat of his own, skin smooth and scarred beneath his hands.

They rocked against each other within the shelter of Andrew’s wings, Neil’s arms tight around Andrew’s shoulders as his lips brushed along Andrew’s jaw and neck, his breath ragged with the same pleasure that jolted through Andrew with each rough thrust and desperate touch. Andrew’s fingers wrapped around the hard leather of the collar and tugged on it to make Neil pull away from his neck then kissed the bastard, his lips cutting off a faint complaint while his other hand yanked Neil’s left thigh up around his hip.

The air was filled with the frantic chiming of his wings and the muffled moans of his lover, the rush of blood through his veins as his heart thundered inside of his chest. Neil’s hands, crossed between where the wings extended from Andrew’s shoulders, pressed hard against his back when he started to shudder and then came. Andrew pulled him closer and buried his face in the crook of Neil’s neck, the collar rough against his cheek, as he rocked hard against his lover a few more times and came as well.

Pleasure slowly faded into a peaceful lethargy as they held on to each other, the faint din of the city below and the occasional buzz of a helicopter or plane above them. “Hmm, I do like it when you ‘blow me’ better. Or when I get to ‘blow’ you, but that was still very nice,” Neil commented in a ‘sleepy’ voice.

_Someone_ didn’t learn, did they? “You get to wash my back now,” Andrew declared as he stepped _between_ , into their bedroom. “And then pay for dinner,” he added on while he willed his wings away.

Neil made that quiet whining sound which he adored while led into the bathroom. “Why are you always so grumpy after Wrath visits?”

Yes, blame it on the Vice, not that Neil still didn’t know any better than to keep quiet sometimes. “Fine, next time say something and you’ll get your blow job.” When Neil grinned like the idiot he was, Andrew sighed. “When we’re _alone_.”

That earned him a puzzled look. “Yes, Nicky said much the same thing earlier today.”

Andrew paused in turning on the water to stare at his lover. “You and Nicky were talking about blow jobs.” All right, he and his cousin were going to have a nice talk later, yes they were.

“Sort of, but then he told me to wait until we were alone,” Neil clarified as he stepped into their large shower.

Yes, Andrew definitely would be talking to his cousin soon. He waited until they were in the shower and Neil, after receiving a nod from him, was washing his chest to speak again. “New rule – no talking about blow jobs with anyone but me.”

That got him another puzzled look. “But others-“

“This isn’t an ‘but other people do it’ thing, Neil. This is a ‘ _we’re_ doing this so no arguing’ thing.” He backed it up by tugging on the key.

“Why are there so many rules?” Neil asked, his tone on the plaintive side.

“To confuse idiots?” When Neil pouted at that, Andrew pulled him forward for a quick kiss. “Be good and follow them, and you’ll definitely get your blow job.”

It didn’t take much to make some idiots happy.

*******

Death watched as Despair worked on the espresso shots that were used for the milkshakes and frappuccinos while he leaned against the opposite counter. “You’ve been quiet today,” he remarked; they’d gotten through the first hour of their ‘shift’ without any rants about how foolish mortals were with their diets.

Despair sighed as he finished the latest shot. “I spoke with my father last night.” It was clear that he was still getting used to having Janus in his life, among other things. “I suppose I have to accept that it’s their choice, filling their bodies with poison.”

“Hmm, yes, that whole ‘free will’ thing,” Death murmured with just a small bit of irony.

"It just... I suppose I have to adjust to things," Despair continued. "This is the most I've interacted with mortals in a long time."

Death paused before he nodded. "It's the same for me." Perhaps not quite as long, but this was the most he'd interacted with mortals in his rather long life.

That admission earned him a shy smile from Despair. "Really? How come?"

"Compassion and Wrath always tried to interest me in them, but...." Death fidgeted with the key hanging from the collar around his neck and shrugged. "I met Andrew."

Despair's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Was he... was he really only a demi-god when you first met? De- ah, Riko," he winced a little when speaking Deception's name, "ranted so much about that fact."

"Yes." Death smiled in remembrance of both 'Riko's' shock in being thwarted by someone possessing mortal blood and Andrew's improbable nature. "He wasn't aware that he was one of Apollo's get at the time, though the blood's much stronger in him than his twin. All in all, it's not a surprise that he got pulled into our world," though Death still felt that things could have been handled a bit better.

"I still can't believe that someone stood up to him like that," Despair said in a quiet voice as if speaking aloud. "I can't believe they hurt him. He... he always seemed so invulnerable to me."

"One thing I've learned is that many a powerful being who thought themselves untouchable has found their ending," Death told his fellow Named One as he wrapped his arms around his scarred chest. "Riko isn't an exception. My father... won't be an exception, because one day I'll stand before him." He just hoped that neither of them would cause him any more pain before those days. "Furies are also known to bring about endings for those who think they're above reproach."

Despair stared at him for a few seconds before smiling once again, that time with more certainty than before. "There is a reason why those two are so desperate to gain control of you, after all."

"Yes." And why they never should.

There was a rush not long after that, which Despair handled with only a minor mistake or two. Death was content to assist with restocking things and fetching the customers’ pastry orders while clarifying the occasional custom order for Despair, and hoped that Janus would decide that his son could work alone in another day or two.

He’d much rather spend the time with Andrew, even if it was just standing around ‘invisible’ at Betsy Dobson’s office. Despite all the centuries when he’d been by himself, he’d gotten used to the last several months with Andrew almost always by his side.

Which was why he didn’t care to stay at the Laughing Fox instead, alone, in a small abode filled with (mostly) mortals and rein in his Aspect. At least Despair was bearable that day, probably because he was more comfortable at pretending to be ‘human’ (that and Diligence didn’t stop by as a distraction).

“I don’t understand why they only believe in some gods, and odd ones at that. Why would they choose to worship Mercury but not Horus or Tsai Shen? Igbo or Eir?” Despair asked while he wiped clean the espresso machine.

“It doesn’t make much sense, does it?” Death agreed. “Some of them are remembered a little, but not to the extent of Mercury… but he’s always been clever. It all depends on how… memorable they made themselves, I think.” He chewed on his bottom lip as he gave it some thought. “Perhaps ask your… hmm, no, maybe ask Co-ah, Dan and Allison about it? I believe they’ve a better grasp of how the gods survive.” At the least, they interacted with gods more than Death ever had.

All he knew for certain was that the ‘immortal’ beings needed faith, any kind of faith, to survive. The more fervent, the better, but just mortals acknowledging their existence helped. And mortals were perverse in their loyalty and devotion.

Despair appeared lost in thought for several seconds before he resumed cleaning with determination. “Yes. Yes, I should go talk to Dan. Thank you.”

Hmm, that was odd, someone being so eager to talk to Courage. Death frowned at Despair but didn’t say anything since they had another drink to make.

They still had another half an hour before Nicky and Aaron would arrive, finished with their classes for the day, and it had slowed down enough that Death led Despair back to the storeroom so they could restock a few things.

It was when they came out with the bottles of syrup in their arms that Despair noticed the figure standing across the street; Death managed to catch the bottles before they fell to the floor and set them on a nearby table while Despair stared out the front windows of the café and trembled.

“ _Deception_.” He appeared a breath away from slipping _between_.

“He can’t enter the building, not with all of the wards,” Death assured his coworker. “It’s all right.”

Despair gave him an incredulous look. “But… but he knows I’m here!”

“Of course.” Death frowned at the statement and Despair’s growing panic. “This is your father’s establishment, after all, and a known gathering place for Named Ones. It’s only logical that you’d be here.”

“But… but it’s not safe!”

“Yes, it is.” Death sighed and wondered when Janus would return from his errand. “Stay here,” he told the fussbudget before he walked away – to the front door and outside while he ‘stopped’ time. The people walking on the sidewalk and the vehicles driving on the road came to a halt, paused by Death’s power, and he stepped around them as he approached the edge of the wards.

“What do you want, you scabrous yaldson?” he called out when he stopped just shy of stepping past them, his arms crossed over his chest and his Aspect no longer restrained. “Don’t you have anything better to do than pollute that bit of concrete with your foul presence?”

Deception stalked out into the middle of the street, his black hair lank on his skull and eyes sunken in his face, his withered right arm held cradled against his chest; Death was stunned at the change in his appearance and felt that any suffering was much deserved. “Still with that unbridled tongue of yours, Abram. I’m going to enjoy cutting it out again and again until you learn to never say anything other than ‘yes, my lord’ and ‘no, my lord’.”

“There’s not enough millennia left for this universe,” Death declared. “Haven’t you learned yet that I’ll never bow down to you?”

“’Never’ is such a strong word.”

“Yet you just said it yourself,” Death pointed out. “Contradictory much?”

Deception’s beady eyes narrowed and his left hand clenched into a fist. “I will so enjoy beating that defiant attitude out of you.”

“Actually, I believe it’s less to do with defiance and more a complete lack of respect for you and an overabundance of hatred and repulsion,” Death was helpful to clarify while Despair crept out of the Laughing Fox to join the two of them. “So there’s no confusion.”

“Ooh… you said that? You actually _said_ that,” Despair moaned while Deception’s eyes burned a brilliant red.

“I thought it best, considering what a dorbel he is,” Death explained. “I never understood how Pride could deal with you as a sibling, what with your many failures,” he directed at Deception.

“No… not… you _don’t_ say things like that!” Despair choked out while Deception snarled in rage.

“Why not?” Death asked, his head cocked to the side as he looked at both of his fellow Named Ones. “ _I’m_ not Deception, I don’t lie.” Well, for the most part, he didn’t.

“No, you’re a fool who’s about to be very, very sorry!” Deception snarled. “You can’t hide behind wards forever, either of you! Soon enough you’ll be back in your rightful places, and I’ll crush any spark of will left inside you at that point, carve you up so bad that no one, not even a disgusting half-breed will want to touch you.” That seemed directed toward Death.

Death shook his head. “I don’t know, it seems we’re doing rather well fending you off so far, us and that _half-breed_.”

Deception’s face twisted with hatred before his thin lips pulled back from his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “But now your _father’s_ here, Abram. Destruction’s not happy with his wayward little boy, and he’s going to _annihilate_ everything precious in your life, including that filthy spawn of a mortal whore. You should have obeyed him all those years ago,” the poltroon said before he vanished _between_.

“Well, that could have gone better?” Death did his best to hide the fear he felt at the thought of his father being nearby, at the havoc the bastard could wreak in his life – a life he’d put so much effort into these last few months.

“Why did you taunt him like that?” Despair asked as he tugged at his black hair. “Why? You just make it worse!”

Death gave his fellow Named One an even look. “How so? In their minds they _own_ us, we’re lesser things to them, things to be broken and brought to heel. But me? I am _never_ going to bow down to them, to go along with their plans for me, not after my mother gave up everything for my freedom.” He regarded Despair then looked past him at the Laughing Fox. “Don’t you believe that your mother would want you to be free, too? That Janus is willing to give up everything for you even though he barely knows you?” He couldn’t quite understand it himself, but Janus… Janus was an honorable man, something which couldn’t be said about Destruction.

Despair flinched at the questions and then resolve settled on his face. “I… you’re right. My mother fought them until she hadn’t any energy left, drained by the lack of followers, and Janus… he’s offering me so much. Too much, really, as I thought maybe he’d give me shelter for a day or two and then send me on my way.” He looked down at his left hand with its lattice of faint scars and clenched it into a fist. “I don’t care what it costs me, I’m tired of being their pawn.” Then the resolution wavered. “I just… I just don’t know what else to do.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Death assured him. At the least, it appeared that they weren’t given a choice other than to fight. “It seems we have allies willing to help, including a Fury.”

That made Despair perk up. “Furies are good. Well, you know, as long as they’re not raining down judgment on you, it’s all good. So Andrew can have Megaera and Alecto help out?”

“Ah… maybe.” Death tried not to wince as he motioned for them to return to the Laughing Fox. “It’s… complicated. But at the least, he’s determined to fight for us.”

Despair frowned at that even as he began walking. “Why aren’t Megaera and Alecto here?”

“It’s complicated,” Death repeated. “They’re still adjusting to Andrew.”

The other Named One seemed to think on that for a couple of seconds then nodded. “Yes, he is rather unique for one of us. Is it because he was a demi-god first?”

“It’s because he’s _Andrew_ ,” Death tried to explain while he ‘restarted’ time. “He just… he does things his own way.” He hoped that meant that his father would be utterly unprepared when it came time for the two men to face each other.

Death wasn’t going to lose Andrew to his father, not if he had to owe debts to every other Named One of true power out there, to Thessaly and anyone else who could be of use.

Not if he had to break the Rules.

Figuring that Janus would be back at any moment since he’d used his power in such an obvious manner, Death settled Despair behind the counter and then went _between_ to Betsy Dobson’s office. He blinked in confusion for a moment when he stepped into the space filled with chairs with mortals sitting around reading magazines or playing with their phones. The walls were painted in pale blues and greens and had some ‘scenic’ paintings on them, and music from over a century ago played softly from speakers set up near the ceiling.

He supposed it was nice, but all he cared about was Andrew leaning against the wall near one of the doors.

“What’s wrong?” his lover asked as he pushed away, a slight frown on his handsome face. “What happened?”

Death considered those were fair questions to ask since he was supposed to be at the Laughing Fox right then. “Ah… I just saw Deception,” he admitted.

Andrew’s Aspect filled the room for a couple of seconds, long enough to make the people shift about in their seats in obvious discomfort, and then he regained control of the rage and madness. “Did he do anything?” he asked as he met Death in the middle of the room, his gaze intent and hands gentle as they touched Death’s face, shoulders and chest.

“No.” Death smiled at his lover’s concern. “Not really,” he elaborated. “It was the usual with him, threats against you and swearing that I and Despair would be under his control soon enough.” Then he let out a slow breath as he reached out to touch the center of Andrew’s chest. “But he confirmed that my father is here.”

“If he’s not lying,” Andrew said as his hand settled on the back of Death’s neck.

“Hmm, there is that, but this time… this time I think he was telling the truth. He knew it would hurt more than his usual lies, after all.”

Andrew was quiet as he considered that and pulled Death closer until their foreheads touched. “We figured as much, what with his people being here, so it’s nothing new. It just means that we’ll be extra careful and you really don’t go anywhere alone.” He grimaced, the expression slight but there. “Hang out with Wrath if you have to, but I don’t want you to be alone, okay?”

“That will make my uncle very happy,” Death admitted. “Just don’t tell me I have to spend my days at the Laughing Fox. I must admit that Despair is doing better today, but there’s only so much discussion about mortals’ dietary habits that I can take.”

“You survived how many wars and world plagues, and now you’re complaining about a few shifts with another idiot?” Andrew gave a quick rub to Death’s nape before he pulled away a little. “I think you’re growing soft in your old age.”

Death was confused by that comment. “I’m not old.” He had only been in existence for a few millennia, which was nothing for a Named One.

“Completely missed the point there.”

“What point?” Much like usual, Death didn’t understand what Andrew was saying, but Betsy Dobson opened one of the doors leading into the room and seemed to be searching for something while a young boy walked out to join an older woman who appeared to have been waiting for him, so Andrew tugged Death into yet another room. As soon as they were alone with Andrew’s mother, they became ‘visible’ again.

“Is everything okay? I thought I ‘felt’ you out there,” Betsy asked as she went over to a section of furniture where a hot water kettle rested and made what turned out to be hot chocolate for her and Andrew.

“Someone decided to pay a visit and surprised me,” Andrew told her once he had a mug in hand.

“Okay.” Betsy regarded him for a few seconds as if waiting for more of an explanation. “Everything’s all right, then?”

Andrew hesitated for a moment before he answered her. “It’s the same as we thought, so you’re stuck with me for a while longer.”

Betsy was quiet at that then gave him a slight smile. “I’ll manage somehow. Will you be hanging out here too, Neil?”

“I don’t know,” Death admitted, since it depended on Andrew. It may be that his lover wanted him somewhere else so his father and Deception weren’t as likely to target the woman, or Janus would insist that he keep returning to the Laughing Fox.

“Well, it’s always nice to see you again.”

That wasn’t something he was used to hearing, so he gave her a slight smile and listened while Andrew and Betsy discussed her plans for the rest of the day while finishing their drinks.

He felt a sense of peace at the affection the two felt for each other and was even more determined to protect the life he’d found with Andrew, the people associated with his lover. This was too important to allow his father to destroy, to lay waste as he’d done to everything else Death had valued in the past.

No more. Whatever the cost, Destruction and Deception wouldn’t be able to harm Death and those he cherished anymore.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Okay, good thing/bad thing time?
> 
> I signed up for this year's AFTG Big Bang. And I decided to do Jeandreil (some people wanted andreil, some people wanted jeaneil, so it's gonna be both. The premise as of now is canon divergence jeaneil and Andrew crossing their paths after they escape the Nest and be set in France and a bit action and crime and... yeah). So what does this mean for Not in the Stars?
> 
> All right, so, I need to write what is probably going to be a long story and by a certain date. I want to get Ravens Partner done by a certain time so I can really focus on this story and others. So I'm sorry to say NS is on hold right now while I alternate between the BB fic and RP. BUT! I'm opening up the prompt queue (I do have one or two to finish up already) so I can hopefully have something to post on the alternate weekends between RP chapters.
> 
> Sorry for people who've been enjoying their Death!Neil fixes, but this will actually let me get some Dragon!Andrew in the mix as well as other things. And that way I'm not freaking out about trying to get the BB done when I'm not quite sure how long it'll turn out. I'm really looking forward to it and all the other fics from the amazing writers who've signed up!
> 
> So that's that. 
> 
> Link to tumblr:  
> [nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com) and [writing stuff](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/tagged/nekojitachanfics))
> 
> As always, thanks for the comments and kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> *******  
> KEVIN! KEVIN IS FINALLY HERE! (yes, I thought I'd confirmed it already, but Kevin is Despair, if that bit about Wymack being his dad didn't settle it for you). Ah Neil, my smol child, you and that mouth (an explanation about how he knows the next chapter, but hm, yeah, basically, him DEATH).
> 
> And yet another wonderful dinner with Bee! I foresee a lot of wine being consumed at those things, yes yes.... Poor Aaron....
> 
> And poor Jeremy.
> 
> Uhm, think that's it? For now at least. I should be alternating this with Raven's Partner for the time being, so every other Sunday???
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos!!  
> ******


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